


You Win or You Die

by AdelenMontgomery



Series: If Only [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Loki Wins, Asgardian Magic (Marvel), Blood and Injury, But like the author doesn't know how to write real politics, Dubious Consent, Forced Pregnancy, Guilt, Gun Violence, Harems, Human Trafficking, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Magic, Memory Magic, Multi, Mutation, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other, Politics, Solitary Confinement, Stockholm Syndrome, Super Soldier Serum, Surveillance, Tattoos, Threats of Violence, Training, Unplanned Pregnancy, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-03-26 16:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelenMontgomery/pseuds/AdelenMontgomery
Summary: Suddenly, being stuck in New York was the least of her problems.When Miranda Douglas' flight gets grounded because of an alien attack on Manhattan, her first thought is that she should have picked a different flight. But as time goes on, she realizes that getting home is next to impossible and that even if she does, she'll never be the same. Miranda just hopes she survives that long.A "The Midgardian Girl" rewrite that nobody asked for. (You absolutely do NOT need to read the original first. This is a complete rewrite.)***Tags are updated with each chapter update***





	1. Departure Gate 17

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! If you've been following this series, thanks for sticking around! If you're new, welcome!  
> Since I've been working with Miranda for ~4 years, I've developed her into a well-rounded character that she wasn't when I started writing "If Only." So I got to thinking, what's stopping me from going back and making it better? And now, here we are. I've started rewriting the entire series 4 years later, now with a more cohesive through plot (ish) and with better writing (#thankswritingdegree). Now that we know how the Infinity Saga ends, I've got a lot more info to play with and don't have to shoehorn new movies in :)  
> Enjoy ;)

Miranda wiped down the screen of her e-reader, the glare from the afternoon sun highlighting every speck of dust and fingerprint left on the screen. Miranda glanced at the time. Fifteen more minutes and she could stop staring at the flight board here and go stare at the one by her gate. The flight ahead of them needed to leave and then she’d be one step closer to Oslo.

Miranda opened up  _ The Prose Edda _ and started rereading the familiar old legends. She smiled, her excitement bubbling to the surface for just a moment. She’d been saving for the last three years to pay for this once-in-a-lifetime chance to interact with Viking artifacts in person, in Norway and Denmark over the course of 8 weeks. She could hardly wait.

“Oh, you've gotta be —  _ Come on _ !” somebody said.

Miranda looked up and saw some guy gesturing towards the flight board. One by one all the flights flipped to “Delayed” in bright red letters.

“Attention all passengers,” came a woman’s voice over the speakers, “all flights have been grounded until further notice.” She repeated herself twice but the announcement could barely be heard over people grumbling and shouting profanities.

Miranda sank into the plastic-y leather seat. She was going to miss her connection to Oslo, that was for damn sure, but on top of it, she couldn’t even catch a flight home if things really went to shit. She’d caught a red-eye out of the Twin Cities that stopped in Detroit on her way to New York, and she’d been sitting in this uncomfortable chair for four hours, and she was exhausted. And now she couldn’t even get to Heathrow, let alone to Oslo.

Her mouth tasted sour. She yanked her water bottle out of her backpack and took a swig before shoving it back in. This was the worst possible thing that could have happened.

“Oh my god, somebody turn on the news!” A college-aged kid with bright green hair stood up with their laptop in hand. “You’re not gonna believe what’s happening in Manhattan.” People crowded around the kid as an airport employee fiddled with the television to find a news program.

Miranda shoved her reader into her bag before joining the growing crowd swarming the television. She tightened her grip on her purse as she pushed closer to the screen.

“...From what we can tell,” said the reporter on-screen, “Manhattan is under attack from what appear to be extraterrestrial life forms.” The reporter ducked as a loud explosion sent shrapnel flying behind them. The camera shakily zoomed in on a skeletal creature before focusing on the reporter again. “We can’t get much closer, but I have seen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on the ground working with the NYPD to contain the destruction —” Another explosion. The camera focused on a gigantic flying… whale?

“What the fuck,” Miranda mumbled. “I shoulda flew outta Chicago…”

She turned and pushed back through the crowd. Once free she made a beeline to her backpack. She slung it over her shoulder. As she walked away from the crowd, she pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found her uncle’s number.

Miranda pressed the phone to her ear. The dial tone hummed before the tell-tale click of voicemail and a robotic woman was telling her to leave a message after the beep. She sighed and pinched her brow.

“Hey, it’s me, Andy. I, uh, well I’m in JFK and on the news, they’re saying that S.H.I.E.L.D. is on the ground in Manhattan and I, um, I’m just worried about you and want to know what the hell is happening, so… Just let me know you’re okay. When you can.” Miranda chewed on her tongue for a moment before she ended the call. She pressed the phone to her chin and stared out over the tarmac.

“Fuck New York.”

*****

Miranda looked at her phone again. No messages. She sighed, her head lolling against the wall. Her reader was still charging, so it was useless for the time being.

“You stuck here, too?” asked the green-haired kid. They sunk down to the floor and sat cross-legged in front of Miranda.

“What gives you that idea?” She tossed her phone into her backpack.

“I’m from Indiana.”

“Michigan.” She paused. “I’m Miranda.” She held out her hand.

“Elise.” They took her hand. “It’s nice to meet someone else that’s trapped in New York.”

Miranda snorted. “I’m pretty sure we’re not the only ones.”

Elise shrugged. They got to their feet and held out a hand. “Wanna head to the food court? I saw a Cinnabon when I got here.”

“Sure.” Miranda took their hand and stood up. Then she gathered her things, zipped up her backpack, and they were on their way.

 

Cinnabon didn’t have anything, but by some miracle, McDonald’s still had coffee. It tasted burnt, but it was at least something. They sat at a slightly sticky table because it was better than the floor. Plus there was a television.

Miranda picked at the cardboard sleeve on her cup as she watched the news. The captions were far enough behind that nothing made sense, but the gist was the same as it had been since the flights had been grounded almost two days ago: New York was a war zone.

Miranda flicked her phone, sending it spinning. No messages.

“You know, you could just call whoever you’re waiting on,” Elise said. They sipped their milkshake.

“Already did and left messages,” Miranda said. She flicked her phone again. “It’s my uncle since you’re gonna ask. He works for S.H.I.E.L.D. so I’ve been worried about him since Berlin and then this all happened… I’m just hoping he’s alive, ya know?”

“Yeah, I feel that. My dad served in Iraq a few years ago. He’ll call.”

Miranda nodded and pressed her lips tightly together. She stared at the news again.

She sat straight up, the scrolling headline at the bottom sending a jolt down her spine.

Elise raised an eyebrow before reading it themselves. “Holy fuck.”

“‘New York was just the beginning?’ Who the fuck does this reindeer jackass think he is?”

They both slumped into their chairs. Miranda’s mind was reeling.

The next few days passed in a blur as the news slowly trickled out because the world was being conquered bit by bit by some madman with an army from space. The great last line of defense wasn’t working. The Avengers Initiative seemed like bullshit.

Miranda and Elise camped out together. People had resorted to raiding the shops and stands after New York fell, and well, they weren’t any better. Clean clothes and food were in short supply.

Miranda tried to call her parents every day, but eventually, her phone died and soon after that the power went out. She stopped trying.

Miranda adjusted her sweatshirt under her head. The airport chairs were just as uncomfortable as when she’d gotten there almost three weeks ago, but at least tonight was the last night she’d be sleeping on them. They were leaving, just her and Elise, and they were gonna take their chances to get away from the city. Maybe make their way back to the Midwest. Somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t a fucking airport at the edge of ground zero.

She wished that Tony fucking Stark had let the government nuke Manhattan. Then this wouldn’t be happening. At best, she would have been able to go home; at worst, she’d be dead. Either way, not her problem anymore.

*****

The early rays of sunshine crept across the carpet inch by inch as Miranda waited for Elise to wake up. She sat on the floor and watched the light make its advance as steadily as alien armies that were marching across the planet.

She folded and unfolded the note her mom had tucked into her backpack — just a simple “We love you XO — Mom, Dad, and Levi.” It was all she had left of them.

Elise tapped her shoulder. “Hey, you ready?”

She nodded and got to her feet. “Let’s go.”

*****

Elise chewed their lip, map in hand. They turned it, trying to orient themselves. Miranda dropped her bag and crouched to rest her legs for a moment. She picked up a stick and started drawing lines in the dirt.

“If we go that way,” Elise pointed to their right, “we should hit the Queensboro Bridge… but if we go that way…” They pointed left. “... I think — If we’re where I think we are, Williamsburg Bridge is closer.”

“Then we’ll head that way. God, getting off Long Island is harder than I thought it would be.” Miranda tossed the stick aside and stood up. She brushed her hands off on her jeans.

The early afternoon sun sparkled on the water. At some point, they’d wound up on 9th Street and followed it until it spit them out in this park that overlooked the East River. Miranda almost didn’t want to leave just yet. It was empty here. But in the blocks behind them and the island across the river, smoke curled up towards the sky and buildings lay in broken heaps. They were in a war zone, even if the fighting had ebbed to scuffles over resources. It wasn’t all that different from the airport, but nobody had bothered them yet.

Miranda rubbed her eyes, the bone-deep ache of exhaustion calling her. She wanted to just lay down and sleep in the summer-warm grass. Instead, she picked up her backpack and started walking towards the Williamsburg Bridge. Elise followed, folding up the map as they walked.

They didn’t stop again until they were about halfway across the bridge. Miranda leaned on the railing and took in the city. She could almost imagine how beautiful it could be when it wasn’t on fire.

“I always wanted to come to here,” she said. “I wanted to see the Met, the Steve Rogers House, Central Park… Everyone always talks about New York.”

“And now we’re here and it’s ground zero for Independence Day,” Elise said.

“This is a shitty remake. It’s not even July.”

On the other side of the bridge, it was harder to move. Not because it was crowded — the streets were still suspiciously quiet — but there was more rubble, more buildings that tumbled into the streets to become roadblocks. After they hit the third, they decided to just climb over it. Otherwise, they’d be walking in circles.

Miranda climbed up first. She paused about halfway the collapsed apartment building to wait for Elise and catch her breath. Her hands stung from the concrete and the dust was drying out her skin, but her heart was pounding in a way that made her feel alive. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Somewhere nearby, tires crunched over rubble. Miranda’s eyes snapped open.

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered. “Quick, climb down and hide.”

“What about you?” Elise said, eyes wide.

Miranda looked around her. One of these crevices had to be big enough for her to hide in. “Don’t worry about me — just go! Quick!” She shimmied over to the nearest crevice and wiggled in. Her backpack scraped against the concrete and rebar.

Elise hopped down and ran into the remains of a bodega. They leaped over the counter and pressed their back to the wall.

Miranda tried to breathe as shallowly as possible; each exhale stirred up a cloud of dust and breathing got more and more difficult. Miranda choked around a cough. She kicked herself for suggesting that they take the risk and cut across Manhattan. They should have gone around it. They had been tempting Fate and Fate wasn’t in the mood for games.

The tires turned the corner. The crunching stopped. Doors opened and closed. Rubble crunched under boots. Someone walked towards the bodega, the broken glass breaking under the new pressure.

Miranda couldn’t breathe. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed a handful of chalk and whoever was out there was getting close to Elise —

“Come out now,” called a man, “and we won’t hurt you.”

Miranda froze.

The man sighed. “Come on, now, sweetheart. Just come out. We don’t want to scare you.” He paused.

Miranda strained to hear what was happening. Boots moved. Elise screamed. Something fell over — a shelf in the bodega? Something scraped along the ground. Doors opened. Doors slammed closed. Elise’s screaming got quieter, then stopped.

“We found your friend, now come on out.” He sighed again.

A bullet exploded the concrete barely a foot away from Miranda’s hiding spot. Miranda bit down hard on her tongue to keep herself from screaming. Another landed even closer.

“Next one goes in you, sweetheart.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming out!” Miranda shouted. She shimmied out of the crevice. Her backpack caught on something a few times and she had to wiggle her hand around to free it, but she made it out.

She coughed as she looked at the scene below her. Three armed men stood in front of a black van. The men wore black kevlar vests over their clothes.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“We’re S.H.I.E.L.D.,” said the man in the middle. He was the same one who’d been talking the whole time. The other two chuckled.

“Yeah, I doubt that.”

“Just come on down. We’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“Bullshit!”

The man shook his head. He pulled his gun out of the holster and pointed it at her. “You can come down now, or we’ll leave you up there. Your choice.”

*****

The back of the van was dark. There were no windows, but Miranda didn’t know her way around anyway so it didn’t matter. They rolled through the streets, rarely going straight for long. Miranda as pretty sure they’d doubled back at some point. She gave up counting turns, which was probably why the guy drove like that. Eventually, they dipped down a hill. Miranda peeked through the sliver in the divider. She could see just enough to guess that they were pulling into a parking garage.

The driver parked and a moment later the back doors of the van opened. Miranda and Elise crawled out and goosebumps rose on their arms as they stepped out into the cold parking garage. There were a few other vans, some other vehicles that looked like standard “secret agent” type cars, and a row in the far corner that was a blinding line of colorful sports cars. Miranda shook her head. She was so tired.

The men lead them to an elevator. The tiny box went up, up, up. Just as Miranda began to wonder if it would ever fucking end, the bell dinged and the door slid open. Miranda looked around as they were ushered down the hall. Everything was bland, standard. They passed a pit of cubicles. The ghosts of posters and company decals stood out like scars on the pale walls.

They were shoved into an office. The woman sitting at the desk barely glanced up at them before demanding their names and any form of identification they might have on them. Miranda and Elise both dug out their passports and driver’s licenses. They set them on the desk. The woman hummed and picked up Elise’s first, then entered something in the computer. When she finished that, she did the same with Miranda’s information.

“Take them both to the tenth floor for now. I’ll finish processing them when their records come back.” The woman never looked away from her screen.

 

The tenth floor used to be some sort of fitness center for the building’s employees. Treadmills and stair-steppers sat motionless next to racks of barbells and yoga balls. Miranda and Elise joined the back of the line waiting for the showers. Miranda shifted her weight back and forth and counted ceiling tiles to keep awake. The room was deathly quiet. Water sprayed in the showers in the locker rooms, the sound of it growing louder for a moment every time someone went in or came out. Miranda almost didn’t care about the situation that had landed her there because there was a damn  _ working shower _ and she could finally wash off all the gross airport crud and the dust of New York.

A young woman in a simple black dress handed her an identical dress and an old towel. Miranda did her best not to get dirt on them. She also did her best to ignore the thin black leather collar around the woman’s neck.

The steam from the showers made the air hot and thick. Miranda found an open stall and pulled the outer curtain closed. She set the towel and dress down on the bench. She pulled off her clothes and it felt like shedding a second skin. Miranda left it all in a grimy heap on the floor. She ruffled through her backpack for her spare underwear and socks and left them on the bench. Then she turned on the water and jumped in. She had never been so grateful for a shower in her life. She stretched like a cat in a puddle of sunshine.

 

Miranda wrapped her hair up in the towel and slung her backpack over her shoulders. Her old clothes joined all the other dirty ones in a bin, and after one last rub down, her towel went in the towel bin. Elise hovered near the door. They kept trying to make the skirt of their dress just a little longer.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” they said, frantic. “I mean — you saw that girl’s collar, didn’t you?”

Miranda put a hand on both of their shoulders. “Hey, calm down. Yeah, this is probably some sex trafficking thing, but… Actually, no, there’s no upside to that. We just gotta keep doing what we have been.”

“And what’s that?”

“Surviving.”

 

When they left the showers, they were taken to another floor. They waited in another line pressed up against the wall of a hallway of offices. Every few minutes, the person at the front of the line went into the office at the end of the hall. Then they’d come back out, a collar around their neck. Someone with the same color greeted them and handed them a slip of paper. Then it repeated.

A woman in a pantsuit strode down the hall and stopped short in front of Elise and Miranda. She stared at their backpacks and her nose wrinkled like she couldn’t believe someone would willingly use a cheap brand.

“Why do you still have those?”

Miranda glanced at Elise before she locked eyes with the woman. “Because they’re all we have left in the world?”

She scoffed. “Hand them over.” She held out her hands for them.

“I’m not gonna give you my bag.”

“Miranda, just —” Elise started.

“No, I’m not fucking handing over my bag.”

The woman sighed and pursed her lips. She stepped into Miranda’s space and crowded her against the wall. “The first thing you need to learn about this place is that  _ you _ own nothing.  _ You _ are owned.”

Miranda kneed her in the gut. The woman nearly doubled over. Miranda grabbed her head and slammed her knee into the woman’s face.

“Miranda!” Elise tugged at her shoulder. “What the hell —”

Miranda shook them off. “Fuck this, let’s go.” She turned and marched towards the elevator bank.

The armed guards both shifted to cover the elevator doors. Miranda set her jaw, her head cocked to the side. Lightning crackled in her stormy blue eyes.

The door at the end of the hall opened. Miranda heard the door click. Everyone was silent, a few of the other unfortunates in black pressed themselves closer to the wall. Miranda felt the change in the air. She turned around. An older man in a suit stood a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets. He seemed like he could be friendly enough, but he carried himself with the air of a mafia don. Miranda squared her shoulders, as prepared for a debate as she was for a fist fight. The man glanced back at the woman. She pinched her nose to slow the trickle of blood.

“Go clean yourself up, Stafford.” He turned back to Miranda. “Come with me,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. Then he walked back toward his office.

Miranda glanced over her shoulder at the armed guards. She sighed and followed the man. Elise stood wide-eyed against the wall. Miranda squeezed their hand as she passed. The others waiting in the wall stared at her, some fearful, others jealous. The girl at the front of the line looked downright grateful to avoid her fate for another few minutes. Miranda clenched her hands to keep them from shaking.

The door closed behind Miranda. The far wall of the office was made of glass and the window let it what light it could from the setting sun. A modernist desk made of steel and glass dominated the room, flanked on either side by bookshelves and filing cabinets. The man sat in the high-backed black leather chair behind the desk and gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. She approached, but instead of sitting, she stood behind the chair and gripped the back. The chipped polish on her nails was almost the same shade of black.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Name.” He turned to the computer.

“Miranda Douglas.” Miranda hated how much it felt like she was handing over her life — she knew she was and that it was in more ways than she knew, but it didn’t need to  _ feel  _ like it.

The man’s hands hovered over the keyboard like he thought he heard her wrong.

“Do you need me to spell it for you? M-I-R-”

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Douglas.” He typed her name in.

Miranda shifted. The way he said her name… it was like he’d been waiting to meet her. If these people really were S.H.I.E.L.D., which they weren’t, then she could make some sense of it. Maybe he knew her uncle, maybe he was familiar with her family’s files because it made sense for S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep tabs on agents’ families for security reasons. She could wrap her head around it. But there was no way that the man in front of her or any of the agents in this building were S.H.I.E.L.D. They were just hyper-organized traffickers taking advantage of the chaos. She was sure of it.

“When was the last time you had access to the news?” he asked. He turned away from the computer and folded his hands together on the desk.

“Two weeks ago,” Miranda guessed. “Haven’t exactly been marking the calendar.”

He nodded. “If you’d care to take a seat, I could get you up to speed.”

“I prefer to stand,” Miranda said. She was shaking and hungry but refused to show any weakness. She refused to bend.

“Very well,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. “Your file made it clear you would be stubborn.”

“That lie isn’t going to scare me. You don’t have a file.”

He chuckled and turned the computer screen so she could see it. Miranda swallowed. There, on the screen, was a picture of her, the kind of candid that she thought only existed in spy movies. She was laughing, talking to someone on the phone as she stepped out of her campus library. That picture was from a month ago, from finals week. She remembered the conversation that she had had with her mom during that phone call. She had assured her that she’d come home for a visit as soon as she returned from Europe.

Beside it was a list of information, a database of who she was spelled out in digital block letters. Everything from the basics like her name and birthday down to her childhood friends and the name of her most recent ex. Miranda squeezed the back of the chair to ground herself.

“As you can see, I do have a file.”

“Who are you?” Miranda asked. Her head was spinning so much she didn’t even care that she sounded terrified.

“I’m Alexander Pierce, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“This isn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. Who do you work for?”

Pierce looked her over and leaned back again. “What difference does it make?”

“Makes a lot of difference, actually, because my uncle works for S.H.I.E.L.D. and this —” she pointed towards the door —  “isn’t fucking it and if it is, then I’ve been lied to my whole life.”

“What the world was before doesn’t matter. There is a new world order, Miss Douglas. Earth isn’t alone in the universe and now we don’t even control our own planet.”

Miranda ground her teeth. “So the second we find out that there’s more out there we throw basic morality out the window?”

“Slavery was common for millennia in the wake of war.”

“Doesn’t make it moral.”

Pierce sighed and pressed a button on the desk. “Welcome to the Ark, Miss Douglas. We’ll be speaking again.”

A man in a grey suit stepped into the office. Miranda stood up and smoothed her dress. In his hands, the man held a gold collar. Pierce waved his hand to dismiss them. Slowly, Miranda walked over to the man. She wiped her palms on her skirt. She could see her future sprawling out in front of her as she pulled her hair out of the way.

She would be escorted out of the office and down the hall, probably to the elevators. From there, they’d go up to one of the higher floors. She’d be given a room, cell, it didn’t matter, it would all be the same in the end. She’d be told what her purpose was now. The collar was gold, she must be important. Perhaps she’d be servicing high ranking members of this fake S.H.I.E.L.D. She’d play the part. Smile and laugh. Latch on the most gullible person who showed interest in her, make the jump from escort to mistress. Play them like a fiddle until she could make a break for it. All she could do now was survive.

The cold metal weighed down on her collar bones. It felt like a noose. The lock clicked shut with finality and the echo rang in her ears as the man grabbed her arm and steered her out of the office. Miranda steadied herself as she crossed the threshold to her future.

 


	2. Hold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first few weeks at the Ark. Danger may be everywhere, but Miranda is able to carve out something that resembles safety and comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride month! Here's chapter two a bit early because I'm bored (and also finished chapters ten and eleven yesterday so I'm ahead of schedule).  
> Enjoy!

The lock clicked closed. Miranda let out a shaky breath. Every time she swallowed she could feel the collar shift.

The room looked like it had been ripped out of a hotel. The queen-sized bed was pushed up against the wall with matching nightstands on either side. A desk stood in the corner to the left of the door. An armchair and lamp were tucked into the far corner. They’d even stolen the hotel art prints of blue and green squares overlapping each other. A wardrobe sat across from the foot of the bed.

Miranda dropped her backpack onto the bed. As it bounced, she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to have it. She frantically ripped open the pockets until she found the note from her mom. She held it in her hand and wondered what to with it, how to hide it.

Miranda chewed her lip, head tilted to the right.

“Maybe…” She tucked the note in her bra before dumping out the contents of her backpack; her possessions scattered across the white bedspread. She had cleaned it out before packing it for the flight, but she dared to hope that there were a couple of staples in the bottom. She could hook them together, attach it to the underside of the collar, and the note would stay hidden on her person at all times.

She threw the empty bag against the window. There were no staples, just notebook fringe and an overstretched hair tie.

*****

Miranda curled up in the middle of the bed, at a loss. She’d found an outlet and plugged her phone in, and repacked her bag. It leaned sadly against the desk and she had no hope of it being there in the morning. The drawers in the wardrobe popped out, which was useful to know. She planned on hiding her phone and the note underneath the bottom drawer. But they would have to still be around in the morning for that — and she couldn’t move.

She drifted off into an uneasy sleep, her mother’s note clenched in her hand.

*****

Miranda sat rigidly on the couch, some modernist curving bullshit, that was in a conversation pit. The wide window allowed a stunning view of New York, or what was left of it. Miranda stared at it as she chipped off her remaining nail polish.

Another girl in a gold collar sat at the other end of the couch. She shook her straight black hair out of her eyes as she drank in the city.

Miranda bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t say something stupid like “It’s a lovely view.”

The door opened and they both swiveled to see who it was.

A nondescript guard shoved a stunning blonde into the room. Her curls bounced and her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” she spat. 

The blonde stomped over to the conversation pit and vaulted over the back of the couch. She bounced to her feet and walked over to the window. She tapped her foot rapidly against the floor for a moment, then stopped. She didn’t move when the door opened again.

Miranda tore her eyes away from her silhouette to see who was being brought in. Two others with golden collars were ushered in. The red-head was tall and moved smoothly like she used to be a dancer. The other strode into the room, her dark curls bouncing with each step. Her combat boots were worn and paint-splattered. She headed straight for the bar. The red-head rounded the couch and sat down quietly.

A few minutes later, another woman with a golden collar was brought in. Combat Boots immediately stopped poking around in the bar and went over to her. She squeezed the new arrival. They spoke softly in Spanish. The smaller nodded and reassured the other that she was fine. They hugged again.

Everyone just hovered around the room. After what felt like hours, Miranda stared at her nails. There was no more polish to chip off. She sighed. Miranda pushed herself to her feet, aware that the motion turned everyone’s attention towards her.

“I’m guessing they put us all in the same room for a reason, so.” She took a deep breath. “I’m Miranda Douglas.”

Blondie smirked and came closer. “Helene Fisher. Nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand and Miranda shook it.

Then everyone else relaxed and introduced themselves. Combats Boots introduced herself as Maria Valdez, and the girl she’d hugged was her cousin, Emilia Dos Santos. The red-head was Gina Kelley. Nilima Budhwari, the quiet one who’d pressed herself into the end of the couch, introduced herself last.

They all sat in the conversation pit, Helene and Maria draped themselves over the armchairs and the rest sat on the couch. Gina hugged a pillow and squeezed it tighter when she laughed. Miranda watched as they all relaxed and got to know each other. It was easy, for a moment, to forget why they were all there.

But then a woman in black pantsuit came in, and the room fell silent. They all watched her walk to stand in front of them. Her heels clicked on the stone floor and her eyes were cold, calculating. It was uncomfortable to be under her gaze for long. It felt like she could see straight into their souls, to the very core of their being. And she didn’t like what she found there.

“You will call me Madame, you will obey without delay or question, and you will learn what is expected of you here in the Ark,” she said. “Not all of you will maintain your golden status, but you all will be in direct contact with his majesty.”

“His majesty?” Maria scoffed. “Last time I checked this wasn’t a monarchy.”

Madame fixed her with a glare. “Come up here. Now.”

Maria raised an eyebrow and shrugged. She strode over to Madame and smiled cockily.

Madame slapped it off her face.

Maria held her cheek, shocked. Emilia hovered half off the couch but afraid to approach. Miranda didn’t have that fear — and neither did Helene, since they were both on their feet in a flash, ready to fight if Maria needed defending.

“Sit down, all of you,” Madame said.

Maria went back to her chair and sat properly, her hand still on her cheek. Miranda and Helene exchanged a glance before they sat down as well.

Madame straightened her suit. Then she told them everything that they needed to know: their position, where they were allowed to be, what they were expected to do in their free time, their duties. With every word, the six of them sank deeper and deeper into themselves as the reality of their situation dawned on them. When Madame left, they sat in silence for a long time.

*****

That night, Miranda wandered up the two floors to the penthouse. The lights in the stairwell were blinding and the floor itself was dark. Miranda carefully padded across the hardwood and pushed through the balcony doors. The long balcony stretched out over the city, and Miranda was tempted to throw her arms wide and have a Titanic moment, but the wind was stronger than she expected and surprisingly biting for June. She shivered as she leaned against the railing.

“Don’t jump,” Maria said.

“Now there’s an idea,” Miranda said. She turned around. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same.” She paused. “I saw the control panels earlier and I was wondering what they were for.” She ducked down and looked at the backside of the panels. A keychain flashlight was tucked behind her ear. “I’m not familiar with Manhattan, but I know Stark tech when I see it.” Maria grinned and sat down. “Hello, access panel.”

Miranda walked over and sat down next to her. “How do you know it’s Stark tech?”

“It’s cutting-edge, sleek, and built to last. And,” she said with a devious glint in her eye, “they didn’t catch all the logos in the building. I found one trying to break out a few days ago.” She pulled a multitool out of her bra.

Miranda gaped. How did she manage to hang onto this stuff? “Break out?”

“Yeah, Emilia and I were brought here about a week ago. I wanted to leave but that’s not an option here.” She started to unscrew the access panel. “I ended up in the lobby, and I heard someone coming so I ducked into a cleaning closet.” She handed Miranda the tiny screw. “There was a janitor’s suit. Had the Stark Industries logo.” The panel popped out. “Well, that’s…” She sighed. “This is a bit out of my league, but…” She set the panel down and fiddled with something inside.

Miranda grabbed the flashlight before it fell and held it for Maria. After a few moments, she rolled her stiff shoulder.

The panel gave a half-hearted pulse. Then a chirp. Then it flickered to life. They both scrambled to see what secrets the panel held before they got caught.

Maria grinned, lopsided. The right corner of her mouth pulled up more than the left, a difference that was highlighted by the panel’s glow.

“This is a landing strip for an Iron Man suit,” she said, “and there might be a suit still inside.”

They locked eyes. Miranda grinned now, too.

“How do we get it out?”

“Computers aren’t my strong suit.” Maria chewed her lip. Then her eyes lit up. “But I know someone: Karol Jones. She’s here, somewhere, and she’s a comp sci major. She got a purple collar. If we can figure out how to get her a gold one, she can help us unlock this.”

“God, I could kiss you right now.”

“Buy me a drink first,” Maria said with a wink and a gentle touch to Miranda’s cheek. Then she ducked underneath the panel again and it went out once more.

Miranda handed her the screw when she asked for it. Together, they went back inside. Miranda knew she wasn’t going to get any sleep but didn’t care at all. They had a real chance of… something. Maybe it wasn’t escape or an end to this disaster, but it was  _ something _ . It was hope.

*****

The next few days passed in a blur. A tailor came and measured them all, though Madame refused to say it was for anything more specific than “clothes.” 

They met with a trainer in the gym under heavy supervision for two hours every day. On the first day, he had just asked them to show him their skill sets. Gina and Helene were amazing dancers, Maria held a black belt in karate, and Miranda boxed. Madame made notes of it on a clipboard. After that, it was just toning and dancing. They were all expected to be slender and graceful as they moved through the different ballroom dances.

Someone else taught them conversation skills. How to hold someone’s attention, how to keep them happy, how to be charming. At each meal, they were expected to practice conversation and their etiquette. Madame was swift to punish even the tiniest mistake.

“They’re training us to be decoration,” Gina said on the third day. “If they have a big event, we’re going to be the shining jewels on someone’s arm.”

“You have been a jewel before,” Nilima said.

Gina’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, I was. I’m not looking forward to the sequel.”

*****

Miranda flopped onto her bed. Her backpack was long gone and there was nothing to do in her room, but there wasn’t anything to do anywhere else either. It didn’t seem like that was going to change — when she’d asked Madame if they could have books to pass the time, her only answer was a sharp glare. She didn’t press. She kinda wished she had, but she reminded herself that she was playing the long game here, and she wasn’t about to risk it all for a book.

But she was  _ so bored _ .

The door opened and Miranda rolled over. “Yes?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize — Miranda!”

“Elise! Oh my god!” Miranda bounced to her feet and pulled Elise into a tight embrace. “I thought I’d never see you again.” She squeezed them tighter; their faces pressed cheek to cheek.

“I thought they killed you,” Elise whispered.

“Not yet.” Miranda pulled back. She tucked a loose bit of hair back behind Elise’s ear to distract herself from the tears forming in her eyes. “But I’m a concubine.”

Elise nodded. “I know. I’m cleaning.” They pointed to their blue collar. “I was sent to check the room.”

“It’s fine,” Miranda said. She dragged Elise over to the bed and sat down. “Tell me everything you know about the Ark. Madame won’t tell us anything.”

Elise took a deep breath. They told Miranda everything they knew. The people in charge kept saying that they were S.H.I.E.L.D. and had the logos to match. No one with a collar was allowed to leave the building. The collars were a color-coded system for keeping track of the “captives.” Gold was the concubines, the chosen few. Blue was cleaning, purple was food and wine, black was whatever was needed. Rumor had it that a few red collars were floating around, but no one knew what they were for or if anyone was wearing one.

The system wasn’t really a hierarchy, but it had become one. Blue- and Purple-collared people got along fine, for the most part. Most of them looked down on the black-collared. A few envied the gold-collared since they didn’t have to work like all the others. “But no one knew that you were… you know,” Elise said. “I’m sure if they knew…”

Miranda smiled sadly. “I doubt that.” She paused. “Wait, you know purple-collars? Do you know Karol Jones?”

“I think so.”

Miranda grinned. “I need you to do me a favor.”

*****

Miranda spun around in her chair. The conference room was empty and she was sick of waiting. If it weren’t for the two armed guards outside the door, she would have left.

“Ten minutes, they said, he’ll be here soon, they said,” Miranda said, her voice high and mocking. She spun around again. Blew air through her lips.

She got up and let the chair spin. Fluffed her hair. Paced the length of the table. Sat down again. Pushed with her feet to see how far she’d glide. Scooted back to where she started. She started to sing “Killer Queen” under her breath.

Miranda heard the door open and looked over her shoulder. The guard looked as bored as she felt.

Nobody was in the hall waiting to come in. No, instead they were ready to escort her elsewhere. They used the elevator. Miranda leaned against the back. The railing was cold under her hands as she squeezed it. She focused on the feeling of her nails scratching against the metal to distract herself from the overwhelming dread coiling in her stomach.

They stepped off the elevator. The entire floor had been turned into a medical wing. It even smelled like a hospital. It made Miranda’s stomach roll. Madame waited next to a patient table. The paper crinkled under Miranda as she sat down.

“Once your physical is complete,” Madame said, “we will determine if you will retain your golden status.”

“And if I lose it?” Miranda asked. She wanted to say she didn’t want it, that she had no desire to “retain” her golden status. She wanted to sucker punch Madame and knee the guards in the balls and take off, sprint down the stairs and out the front doors; but she knew that that was a good way to get killed.

Madame pursed her lips. “That will be determined when the time comes.”

Miranda chewed on her lip throughout the examination. Her knees jerked when tapped with the hammer, her heart beat a steady rhythm, her lungs took in air like they were supposed to. She answered all of the doctor’s questions. She took note of Madame’s reactions to her answers. She made notes here and there on her ever-present clipboard. When Miranda said she’d had three sexual partners, Madame’s eyes widened for a moment. It was the only visible reaction.

That file Pierce had on her wasn’t complete. And they hadn’t known that.

Miranda fought back a smirk.

When the doctor finished, he and Madame stepped aside and had a quiet conversation. Then the doctor left. Madame’s shoulders tensed, then relaxed. She straightened her blazer. She turned smoothly and walked back over to Miranda.

“Congratulations, you will remain in your position.”

“Joy,” Miranda said with fake enthusiasm. “Dream come true.” She caught Madame’s hand before she could strike her and smiled. “Am I free to return to my room?”

“Not just yet. Dr. Smith will be giving you a birth control implant and then you will be marked. The collar is no longer necessary since your status is now permanent.”

Miranda dropped Madame’s hand. It took her a moment, but she recovered and forced herself to have a neutral expression.

The doctor came back. He instructed her to lean back against the padding. Miranda closed her eyes. She flinched when she felt the pinch of the needle in her arm. She wondered what the mark would be.

The mark was a tattoo, a complex design of a twisting snake with a head on either end that was going into the pale smooth flesh on the inside of her left wrist. Miranda turned her head away as the tattoo artist went to work. Tears dripped down her cheeks and she couldn’t get away from the incessant buzzing. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to scream. She wanted to plead to any shred of humanity left in anyone, everyone involved in this madness. She clenched her jaw so tightly that it hurt for hours after she relaxed.

*****

The penthouse wasn’t the same after that. Helene, Emilia, and Gina were nowhere to be found. It felt empty without them. Nilima tried to raise their spirits and Maria and Miranda played along. They followed her movements as she taught them Bollywood dance moves, the three of them moving in sync. But it wasn’t enough.

Then came Hanna George.

She was brought to the penthouse one afternoon without explanation or warning. Maria’s head was in Miranda’s lap when she was shoved unceremoniously into the room. The three of them scrambled to their feet and went over to her, guided her to the couch. They shared a knowing look when they saw the bandage on her wrist. She sobbed for several minutes. They let her.

*****

Maria flopped onto Miranda’s bed. “Waiting sucks.”

Miranda laughed and laid down next to her. “Someone’s impatient.”

“I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop — I mean, we’re concubines and they’re really serious about this shit, but we’ve never even  _ seen _ the man.”

“What, am I not good enough for you anymore?” Miranda teased. She pushed hair away from Maria’s face. “Am I missing something you need?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “No, it’s just —” She groaned.

“You want to get it over with,” Miranda finished. They locked eyes. “Me, too.”

Maria pulled Miranda closer and rested her head on Miranda’s shoulder. She sighed. Miranda curled towards her and shuffled closer. She traced Maria’s jawline with her finger. Maria squeezed her eyes closed.

“What do you think happened to the others?” Maria whispered.

Miranda chewed her lip. She didn’t know what to say. Everything felt like it rang just shy of true and all of it was empty platitudes. She hugged Maria as best she could.

They fell asleep tangled up in each other and for the first time in almost two months, Miranda felt safe.


	3. The Night We Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At a formal event in a hotel ballroom, Miranda finally meets Loki, the man that claims to be king of the world, and quickly learns that he's nothing like what she expected.

Miranda took a deep breath and shook her hair out of her eyes. She nodded to the man next to the door and he opened it. Miranda strode into the room. Here, for one night, everything she did would have immediate consequences for her future.

The ballroom was glowing from the golden light of the chandeliers; each crystal scattered the light across the room of people whose outfits cost more than Miranda’s life was worth to them. But she couldn’t really judge when she was dressed to the nines as well. The diamond necklace and earring set that she wore was worth more than she had ever dared hope to earn in her lifetime, let alone wear. Though she wasn’t dressed to show off. She was dressed to be  _ shown _ off. It was all to show off the wealth and power of their new king.

Miranda grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and debated if it was worth the reprimand from Madame if she just downed it. Her skin crawled as eyes analyzed every inch of her. A few months ago she would have loved the attention, but now she was acutely aware of the eyes tracing over the plunging neckline that revealed her cleavage and the slit that her leg poked through as she walked and the way the fabric clung to her curves. A dark emerald green had always been a good color on her. She handed the empty flute to a waiter and took a full one.

“Someone’s ready to party,” Maria teased. She took the flute from Miranda and stole a sip. Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh, that is so dry.” She handed it back.

“Well, unless there’s a bar, this is gonna have to do,” Miranda said. She took a sip. It really was dry.

Maria hummed. “Hey, have you seen who’s singing?” She bit back a grin.

Miranda shook her head.

“It’s Helene.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. “No way.” She turned to look at the stage.

Helene stood in the spotlight before a microphone, her voice a gentle caress over the hum of conversation as she sang something sweet and full of longing. Her blue dress hugged her as tightly as Miranda wanted to and the opera gloves added an edge of class that made everything feel like a Bond film.

She wanted to go wait in the wings for Helene, to squeeze her and ask about everything that had happened since they’d last met. Instead, she stayed put and said, “If she’s okay, then the others—”

“Must be, too. My thoughts exactly.”

“Maybe this party won’t be so bad after all,” Miranda said. She offered Maria her arm and together they walked towards the stage until they were close enough that Helene could see them through the stage lights.

She smiled when she saw them. They stood next to a cocktail table at the edge of the dance floor and listened to the rest of her song. They clapped with the rest of the room when she finished, and again when she finished the next song. Helene took a break then, and Miranda began to slip towards backstage when she heard someone trying to get her attention.

“Psst! Yes, you, in the green,” she said.

Miranda glanced to her right and saw one of the wait staff. She seemed to be in charge or something since she didn’t have a tray but did have a clipboard and an earpiece. The purple collar stood out against her throat and starched white button down.

“Come with me,” she said and waved over her shoulder.

Miranda waited for a beat after the woman had turned before following. The woman lead her out of the ballroom and through the kitchen to a pantry. She closed and locked the door.

“We don’t have a lot of time, but Elise said that you wanted to meet me.”

“You’re Karol Jones?” Miranda asked.

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Sure am. And I know you’re Miranda Douglas, but the  _ real  _ question is: how the fuck do you know my name?”

“Maria Dos Santos said you’re good with computers.”

Karol stuck her tongue in her cheek and sighed through her nose. “Okay.” Then she held up a finger while pressing the earpiece into her ear. Her shoulders sank. “Fuck, you’re already missed. Pierce is asking where you went.”

“Seriously? It’s been, what, three minutes?”

“Apparently you’re special.” Karol unlocked the door. “When I have time, I’ll find you. We’ll finish this conversation then. Right now, I have to get you back.” She opened the door and Miranda followed.

They quickly passed through the kitchen and Karol handed her a cracker off a tray.

“Your stomach was upset, got it?” Karol said.

Miranda nodded and nibbled on the cracker as they stepped back out into the ballroom. Karol smiled sadly at her before she disappeared back into the kitchen and barked orders at the chefs and waiters. Miranda looked around the room.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her stomach twisted. She couldn’t breathe. Pierce knew something about her that was bigger than S.H.I.E.L.D. and bigger than whatever this was. She knew he was the sort of dangerous man that collected dangerous people, could sense it every time she looked at him. She could only guess what he did to dangerous people that didn’t allow themselves to be collected. She didn’t want to be collected. But, she thought sadly as she looked at where her tattoo was hiding under her lacy sleeves, she had already been collected.

“Miss Douglas!”

Miranda paused and turned around. She plastered a smile on her face as she brushed the crumbs off her fingers. “Mr. Pierce! How wonderful to see you again,” she said. She shook his hand and tried not to throw up when he kissed the back of it.

“Now, allow me to introduce you to his majesty, Loki.” He gestured to the man beside him.

Miranda’s heart skipped a beat. This was the moment that the past few weeks had been leading up to, the moment where all the dance and diction lessons were supposed to pay off, the moment she met the person she was supposed to be a companion for. Her eyes followed Pierce’s gesture.

For a moment, she forgot that she was supposed to act. Whatever kind of man she had been expecting, he wasn’t it. He looked young, handsome. His black hair was slicked back and his unearthly blue eyes sparkled with mischief. He didn’t look like the ruthless conqueror that the world knew him to be. She swallowed and curtsied.

“Miranda Douglas, your majesty,” she said.

He took her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” He kissed the back of her hand and Miranda was sure she was going to spontaneously combust.

Everything that Madame and the instructors had tried to teach her flew out the window. She couldn’t play the part of the calm, seductive member of Society that they wanted her to be. She was two flutes of champagne, a chaste kiss, and half a panic attack past that. All that was left was the college kid that challenged pretty boys to out-drink her and danced against pretty girls like she could fuck them better than their boyfriends could ever dream. Miranda didn’t know how to flirt. She didn’t know how to seduce someone. Not for the long game. Not for politics.

They had taught her to bat her eyelashes and lead the eye to her bare skin, her cleavage. Make herself the object of desire. But that wasn’t Miranda’s style at all. She did the opposite. And even though she had no control over what put her here, she could still control what happened while she was.

Miranda’s lip curled as she slowly looked him over. By the time she got back up to his eyes, she knew she’d made the right move.

“Miss Douglas is one of the specially selected companions I was telling you about,” Pierce said.

Loki raised an eyebrow, impressed. “If they are all as beautiful as her, you’ve done well. A dance, my lady?”

“Sounds lovely.” Miranda took his arm and followed him to the dance floor. She glanced over her shoulder at Pierce as they walked away and smirked, but he looked like the cat that got the cream. She tried not to overthink it.

The band played a waltz. Miranda tucked her right hand into his left and rested her left on his shoulder as his right rested on her hip.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“As much as I can,” she replied. She stepped out into the spin.

“And how much is that?” he asked once she had spun in and his arms wrapped around her.

She locked eyes with him best she could over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She spun away again and when she came back they were facing each other once more. She took a half step closer. By the end of the dance, they were flush together.

Miranda wasn’t sure if she was the spider or the fly.

She wasn’t sure she cared. She was slow dancing at the end of the world with the man who caused it all to collapse. Spiders, webs, flies — it was all a game. Maybe she had to sacrifice a few pieces to win.

The final note of the song faded away. Before the band could pick up again, Loki pulled her off the dance floor. She spent the rest of the night by his side as dozens of people introduced themselves or were introduced. She introduced him to the other “companions.” Maria silently yelled at her with her eyes the second Loki was distracted. Miranda shrugged. This was their life now, after all, being shown off.

But Miranda learned a lot of names and faces. That information, she knew, would be vital when she found out who these people really were. The real S.H.I.E.L.D. would want to know who was cozying up to Loki. Even if it was boring as hell to meet them all.

Loki said he would be just a moment and stepped away with the man who had come up to them. Strobble? Stubble? She couldn’t remember.

Miranda frowned at the champagne flute in her hand. She abandoned it on a table.

“So you two look close,” Maria said coolly.

Miranda smirked and grabbed her hand. “Is somebody jealous?”

“No,” Maria said. She pulled her hand back. “This isn’t about us, you and I both know that  _ us  _ can’t happen. This is about your safety.”

“They’re more likely to kill me if I don’t get close to him. He’s had lots of opportunities to talk to anyone else. And he’s kind of the king; I’m pretty sure he could have whoever the fuck he wanted.”

“That’s my point. If he wants you, nothing can stop him.” Maria raised her hand to tuck a stray curl behind Miranda’s ear but abandoned the motion halfway through. She stared at the floor for a moment. “I mean, it’ll happen sooner or later, but after what you said about your ex —”

“You were hoping that my turn would be later,” Miranda said. She rolled her shoulders to lose some tension. She chewed her lip. “I feel the same way about you, which is why I’m okay with…” She took a deep breath. “It.”

Maria shook her head sadly. “In another life, I’d marry the shit outta you.” She locked eyes with Miranda.

Miranda smiled and dropped her gaze. “You shouldn’t say something like that when you can’t follow through.”

“Who knows? Maybe with that uncle of yours on the case we could.”

“Maybe,” Miranda said. She bit her lip. She had risked calling and texting him so many times only to be rewarded with radio silence. But she didn’t tell the others that. “Maybe.”

******

Miranda looked out the window and watched the city go by as they drove back to the Ark from the hotel. The streetlamps that were still upright and working created islands of light in the absolute darkness of the city. She thought she saw a flicker of movement in one of the windows, a curtain drawn back just a sliver, but by the time she turned to see, they were too far away.

“Enjoying the view?” Loki asked.

Miranda leaned back into the seat like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “This is my first visit to New York,” she said. “Even like this, I want to see what I can.”

_ So I have a mental map. So I can find my way around. So I can escape _ , she thought.

Loki smiled softly at her and took her hand in his own.  She stared at their intertwined hands. He had asked her to ride back with him. She knew that meant he’d chosen her for the night. She should be horrified, disgusted, on the verge of panic.

But she wasn’t. She had butterflies, the kind she’d gotten when she had a one-night stand after breaking up with Jonathan. She had picked up a girl with dark eyes and darker lipstick at a bar, made out with her in the elevator of her building. Both of them running high from adrenaline and the buzz of alcohol in their veins. And this was exactly like that.

This was nothing like that. She had chosen to take that girl up to her apartment. She hadn’t chosen to be shaped and branded into a companion. She hadn’t even chosen to get in the car, really.  She had agreed, yes, but only because she wasn’t sure she could say no. Loki had posed it like a question, “Will you accompany me?” but she wasn’t sure if it really was a question. But if she didn’t go along with it, wouldn’t he just move on to one of the others? Or worse: he wanted her and wouldn’t change his mind even if she did.

“You seem tense,” he said.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his.

“Nothing will happen if you do not wish it, you have my word.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth across the backs of her knuckles.

“And if I change my mind?”

“Then everything stops.”

It didn’t change what brought her here, she knew, but for now it was everything. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I promise you the same.”

His eyes pierced through her but she didn’t feel like she was the one being laid bare. Miranda had known him only a few hours but already she knew that his eyes betrayed everything about him. They were so expressive and haunted. She wanted to make that stop, as crazy as it sounded. This man had lead an army that no doubt slaughtered millions, and here she was, a twenty-year-old history major turned concubine who wanted to help him when she should be planning how to kill him in his sleep.

His eyes flicked down to her lips. She knew what was coming next and leaned into it. She kissed him as much as he kissed her.

*****

Miranda pulled the bathrobe tighter around her. Loki paced back and forth in front of her as she sat on the side of the bed. Everything had been fine — great, even — until he caught a glimpse of her tattoo. She had been underneath him, surprised to be enjoying herself. She reached up to wrap her hand around his neck with the intent to pull him into a kiss when he caught her wrist and stared at the black ink embedded into her skin.

“What is this?” he asked.

Miranda frowned. “You don’t know?” She studied his face. “You don’t know.”

“What is it?” he repeated through gritted teeth.

“It marks me as one of your companions,” Miranda answered. It was the truth, but she wasn’t sure it was the right answer.

He had immediately pulled back and slid off the bed. He pulled his pants back on and tossed her the bathrobe that she was now wrapped in. Then he started pacing.

“When?” He stopped and looked at her.

Miranda tried to count the days. “Almost two weeks ago, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have a calendar.”

Loki stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “They don’t — what  _ have  _ they told you? What are you, really?”

“They call this place the Ark. Call themselves S.H.I.E.L.D. They told me and the others that we were specially chosen to be your companions because concubine was apparently too blunt. Before that, we were all… captured slaves, I guess.”

“You didn’t volunteer?”

Miranda’s heart broke for him. They’d told him that they…  “No,” she said. She shook her head. “I thought you knew.”

“I wouldn’t — prisoners of war becoming slaves is one thing, but this is something else entirely.”

Miranda let out a shaky breath. She wondered how close Asgardian and Viking cultures were and prayed that they were close enough that she could make sense of all this. “When they said they found possible companions for you, they left out the part that we are slaves.”

Loki clenched his jaw.

“When they taught us that we were to be your companions, they left out the part that you’re genderfluid in the myths. Which is weird ‘cause it’s a pretty big deal when analyzing them.” She shot for lighthearted, but she wasn’t sure it landed.

Loki shook his head. “Not just the myths,” he muttered.

Miranda tucked that away for later and pushed to her feet. She stood in front of him. The height difference was a little dizzying since she barely passed his shoulder. Miranda gently tilted his head towards her so she could look him in the eye.

“We don’t have to do anything,” she said. “We established that in the car.” She waited for him to nod before she continued. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said. Loki wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “If you go I may just kill them all.”

“Seems like a bad idea to kill all the people helping you control a planet.”

“Not my worst, but yes. It would make things… difficult.”

Miranda chuckled. Then she pulled back and lead him back over to the bed. She sat down and tugged his arm until he sat next to her. She leaned back until she laid down. A moment later, Loki did the same.

“I know this is a bad time, but —”

“You want to know what your position is now.” He stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know yet.”

“I don’t think they ever considered putting me elsewhere, but I don’t know why.” Miranda stared at the ceiling, too.

“I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t tell me you are slaves.” Loki sat back up. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they thought it didn’t matter to you. It doesn’t seem to matter to them.”

He turned to look at her. “They were wrong.”

“I can tell,” she said. She stifled a yawn. “Can we plot murder in the morning? I’m tired.”

Loki chuckled and laid back down. “I can see why they picked you.”

Miranda shrugged, a little smug. Finally, her casual attitude towards murder would pay off. She stifled another yawn and Loki chuckled. He shifted like he was going to kiss her, but stopped. She didn’t say anything. After a moment, she got up and shed the bathrobe. Then she burrowed underneath the blankets.

“Join me?” she teased with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. She pulled back the other side of the bedding. “Just to sleep,” she said when he didn’t move.

“I’ll join you in a moment,” Loki said. He got up and left the room.

“Don’t kill anyone,” she called after him. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes.

She wanted her brain to shut up for just two fucking seconds so she could actually make some sense out of everything that had happened. She needed to decide on her next move. How could she seduce him now? That was a key step in her plan. And it was gone now.

_ But is it? _ she wondered. He had asked her to stay.

Miranda opened her eyes. He had asked her to stay so he wouldn’t murder anyone. Within the span of an evening she had established herself as a calming presence, but one at his speed.  _ I can see why they picked you _ . Miranda closed her eyes again.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

She had been so hellbent on escape that she never stopped to consider  _ why _ she was put in her current position. Pierce had put a gold collar on her immediately when all the others had started in a different color. There was no hesitation after her exam for her to be tattooed but Maria had waited an hour before they came back to do hers. Pierce had introduced her first at the party, and  _ she _ had taken care of the other introductions.

She had looked him in the eye. No one else had the entire night.

She knew the myths. Knew what to expect before she met him, even if she didn’t believe that the myths were legends about someone real. Didn’t believe that they were about  _ him _ .

Capturing her had been Pierce’s golden ticket.

Loki opened the door just enough for him to enter. Miranda sat up and pulled a blanket to cover herself. He handed her a grey silk nightgown that she accepted with a murmured thanks. She waited until he disappeared into the ensuite to slip out of the bed and pull the material over her head. Miranda rubbed the lace trim between her fingers. It was one of hers. He’d gone to get a nightgown from her wardrobe. He knew which room was hers.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

When Loki came back into the room, she was tucked between the sheets on her side. She stared at the wall. The bed dipped under his weight. The sheets rustled, then stilled.

“If you could leave tomorrow, would you?” he asked.

Miranda let the question hang for a moment. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite moment in this chapter is the "Oh no he's hot" moment. What's yours?


	4. Light Shines Brighter in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda, confused about Loki and impatient to escape, seeks out Karol Jones. She finds her without issue but getting back to a floor she's allowed to be on proves difficult, especially when her stubbornness rears its head.

Miranda leaned against the railing. The summer sun was warm on her back as it reached its zenith. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Everything was different in the daylight. In the daylight, she could convince herself that Loki’s reaction the night before had been to gain her trust and she had fallen for it; she could convince herself that she had a chance to get away even if he was a liar.

She could barely make out the tiny red dot of a fire hydrant below her.

Miranda pushed away from the railing and strode back inside. She passed the others, deaf to their questions as she made a beeline for the stairs and began her descent down to the kitchen. It wasn’t far, but it felt worlds away. It was a floor she wasn’t allowed to go to.

She hoped the black velvet choker she wore was enough at a glance and pushed the door open. So long as she acted like she was supposed to be there, no one would question her. She hoped.

“Excuse me, you’re not — shit,” Karol said when she saw Miranda. She pulled Miranda into the nearest room, which just so happened to be a supply closet.

Miranda sensed the beginning of a pattern.

“I told you I’d come when I had time,” Karol said.

“I don’t have time,” Miranda said. “I need to know what’s happening here and to do that I need your help to get into the computer system.”

Karol scoffed. “Are you insane? They have everything encrypted up the wazoo.”

“Not  _ their _ computers. I mean the building itself.”

“The building? Like, Stark’s AI?”

Miranda nodded. “There’s a panel on the landing strip —”

“The  _ what _ ?”

“— and Maria and I think it could be a back door in. If we can alert Stark, then maybe…”

“We can get out of here.” Karol took a moment to mull the idea over. “Okay. I’m in. I’ll come up tonight and get started. But you’re on your own, getting off the floor.”

“I got this far, didn’t I?”

*****

Miranda was fucked. She pressed herself farther into the corner of the alcove. The footsteps were getting closer and she could make out what they were saying now.

“... if we don’t, imagine his reaction. We already know how he reacts when we withhold information.”

“I’m still hesitant to reveal our chief asset so soon,” Pierce said.

Miranda’s stomach dropped. She was royally fucked. She had been so stupid to think that going down a floor and cutting over to a different staircase would be easier than just retracing her steps. Now she was shaky from adrenaline and still on a floor she wasn’t supposed to be on.

“The Winter Soldier isn’t just some trophy we can dust off just because we want to show off our achievements,” Pierce continued.

Their footsteps were right around the corner now. Miranda held her breath as they passed by her hiding spot. Neither man looked.

“True, but we still should tell him sooner rather than later.”

“You leave that decision to me,” Pierce said. He patted the other man’s shoulder as they rounded the corner.

Miranda sagged with relief. She leaned forward and peeked out of the alcove. Miranda looked both ways before she stepped out of the shadows and sprinted down the hall. The exit sign glowed over the door like a beacon. She was so close and then she’d be home free.

The elevator dinged and Miranda felt her heart stop for a split second. She opened the nearest door and ducked into the room without a second thought. The lights automatically flickered on as she leaned heavily against the door.

The room was large but had been repurposed like everything else, it seemed. A glass box dominated the room with lines of pressure sensors wrapped around it that were linked to screens. Each read “ENGAGED” in bright green block letters.

Miranda stepped closer. It was strange that this room wasn’t locked or guarded when it was so clearly a prison cell.

Inside the box was a cot and bucket. There was nothing else to furnish the odd cell of the man slumped against the wall with his back to the door. She guessed his outfit used to be whiter.

A tablet on a stand stood a few feet away from the cell’s door. Miranda tapped the mic button. “Hello?” she said.

The man jumped and turned around. He scrambled to his feet. For a moment, Miranda was terrified of the wild look in his eye and the tangled mess of his dark hair. Then she realized he was afraid of her.

She tapped the speaker button. “Hi,” she tried again with a little wave.

“Hi,” he replied cautiously. “Who are you?”

“Miranda Douglas. You?”

“Bruce Banner.” He paused. “I-I don’t understand. Why are you here? Is it some kind of mind game?”

“No, Dr. Banner, far from it.” Loki stood in the doorway, his gaze focused on Miranda.

Miranda paled. She should have retraced her steps. She should have paid attention to the door. She should have done a lot of things differently today and it was barely afternoon.

“With me,” Loki said. He turned on his heel and left the room.

Miranda hurried after him; she didn’t want to get in anymore trouble than she was already in and she knew she was in deep. She followed him down the hall to another room. He held it open for her. With the caution of someone that just signed their death warrant, she stepped into the room.

There was a glass wall. All the other walls were white panels that let up the room. It was tiny — Miranda would be able to put her palms on opposite walls if she stretched her arms out in either direction. There was a bed. A bucket.

She balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

Loki opened the door to the tiny box of a room. Miranda didn’t move a muscle. He sighed.

“If you were anyone else, I would have you killed.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” She glared at him. “Can’t I at least know my crime?”

“You’re not supposed to be on this floor.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “I know that. Is this really necessary?”

“Don’t make me force you.”

“Oh, because the illusion of consent really saves your conscience, doesn’t it?”

He stalked over to her and grabbed her arm. There would be bruises, she could feel it. Loki dragged her into the cell and threw her onto the floor.

“Learn your place,” he said. Then he closed the door to the cell.

She glared at him as he left the room. The lights went out when the door closed behind him. Miranda screamed curses after him.

*****

Miranda buried her face in the blanket. The lights were blinding after so long in the dark. The door to her cell clicked open, a tray scraped along the floor, the door clicked closed. The main door opened and closed. The lights blessedly turned off.

Miranda rolled over and slid onto the floor. She found the tray and grabbed the roll. She plopped onto her butt and leaned against the wall as she ate. It was her nineteenth meal. Or maybe it was the twentieth. It seemed like nothing and yet it was  _ everything _ that she knew. It was the only way she could even guess at how long she’d been in here.

The chicken was cold. She didn’t care.

It was her own stubbornness that kept her here. Loki had offered her a deal that she couldn’t take. Wouldn’t take. She could. She could accept the terms of her release — they were so simple, really. All she had to do was tell him why she had been on the floor in the first place. But Miranda bristled at his demand. She didn’t owe him an answer, and what’s more, if she told him the truth, she wouldn’t be let out anyway. Conspiracy, treason. She would be charged with either, and so would anyone who had helped her. Maria, Elise, Karol. The semblance of freedom that they had would be stripped away if she cracked. So she was locked in this cell she came up with a convincing lie. The longer she took, the better her lie had to be.

*****

The empty tray from approximately meal 54 rested where it had been left. Miranda knew where everything was in the room now like she could actually see them, not that there was much to begin with. Everything reeked of sweat and the contents of the bucket but she couldn’t really tell anymore.

She kicked her feet off the floor and balanced on her hands. Her arms shook — she wasn’t eating enough to keep this up — but she held firm. She could hold a handstand for 12 Mississippis before her arms shook too violently for her to trust that she wouldn’t drop herself on her head. The last thing she needed to do was crack her skull open.

The lights came on, just bright enough that she could make out the vaguest of shadows. Loki had learned, somewhere around meal 32, that she was more likely to talk to him if the lights weren’t on, or at least weren’t at full brightness. Slowly, the lights brightened until the shadows became distinctive shapes.

Miranda gracefully switched to standing on her feet. The door opened and Loki stepped into the room. Miranda took the two steps forward that it took to reach the glass that separated them. She rested her forearm on it and leaned towards the glass.

“Miss me?” she said.

He didn’t answer and remained statue-still.

Miranda hummed and pushed off the glass. She wandered over to the bed and sat down. “Shame we have to keep this up.”

Miranda blinked as a sudden wave of nausea sent the room spinning.

“We don’t if you just tell me what you were doing.”

“I didn’t mean to find Dr. Banner,” she said. She hated how breathy she sounded — she needed to lie down. “Didn’t even know he was there.” She sank into the sheets. The room still spun. Had she been poisoned?

“Then why were you?”

Miranda closed her eyes and ground her teeth.  _ God _ , did he have to talk so damn loud? Miranda sat up and yanked her shirt off. She tossed it aside but still felt like her skin was on fire. It had to have been something in the… something in the food. She blinked and tried to focus on her hand. She could make out the shape of it, but everything had taken on a blurred edge that had nothing to do with the low light. Miranda breathed in and out through her nose.

Loki sighed. “Your determination is commendable.” Then he left the room. The lights slowly faded away.

She sat in complete darkness once more.

Her head felt like it had been split open with an ax. Miranda clutched her head as she fell to her knees. She screamed, a guttural sound that ripped its way out of her chest. The floor was cool against her skin. She curled up tighter. Miranda screamed until she passed out.

*****

The breeze was warm and smelled like flowers. Miranda slowly opened her eyes. Lilacs swayed and honeysuckles danced. She smiled slowly.  _ Home _ . Her parents’ house. And it was just as she remembered from the hostas in the flowerbeds to the flaking paint on the deck. She ran up the driveway and up the steps. The floorboards of the deck groaned under her weight and she leaned into the spots. She never thought that the creaky deck would make her heart feel so full that she’d cry. Miranda looked to the screen door. Her hand reached out and pressed the button. She pulled.

Everything vanished. She was left alone in a white abyss. Dozens of lights, each a different color, emerged from the blank nothing. They were faint at first but grew brighter as she focused on them. She approached the closet one, a ball of green and gold clouded by a blue film. Miranda reached out and touched it.

She immediately pulled her arm back and cradled her hand. It was _ cold _ . Colder than anything she had ever felt and it  _ burned _ . She turned her hand over and examined it. A twinge of pain flew up her arm. Then nothing. Her hand felt normal.

Miranda backed away from the orb and went to another. It was the softest, most comforting shade of brown she’d ever seen. She walked around it, afraid to touch. Just around the curve of it, she saw a patch of electric green. But it always stayed just ahead of her. Miranda grabbed the orb, top and bottom, to make it stop spinning. The green dot was the only spot it could be seen on the surface but the orb was green throughout, barely contained by the brown outer layer. It sizzled with contained anger. But underneath was the gentle reverence of holding an old book that threatened to crumble when touched.

She let it go and looked around at all the other orbs. She went to each of them. Each held the most wondrous sensation.  A sky blue orb streaked with silver was the satisfaction of a finished project. A deep red one with tan tiger stripes was oil paint between her fingers and peeling glue off her hands. The lavender one with the tiniest flecks of daisy yellow was the soft clink of a private toast that was a vow of love.

Miranda woke with a gasp. She coughed and pushed herself up to a sitting position. On the other side of the glass was a figure the color of the first orb she had touched. She rubbed her eyes and the colors disappeared.

The figure left a moment later.

Miranda stood up even though her muscles were stiff and protested even the smallest movement. She swayed on her feet. She caught herself on the wall. The fire underneath her skin had calmed to a simmer. She was drenched in sweat.

Miranda sat down hard on the bed and pulled the blanket over her. She shivered. After a few moments, she fell asleep.

Then the voices started.

At first, they were just a whisper. She could barely hear them. Some grew louder before others.

_ Breathe. Stay calm. Getting angry will only make things worse. _

_ Sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy —  _

_ Maybe if I just tweak this wire… haha! Yes! Ah, no… fuck. _

_ Getting angry will only make things worse. _

_ — when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you — _

“Stop!” Miranda shouted. She curled up with her hands over her ears. “Please stop!”

More voices joined them until it sounded like she was caught between dozens of radio stations. A sob wretched its way out of her chest. The room had broken her.

*****

Miranda stared at the wall. She couldn’t see it, but her back was against one so she had to be staring at the other. A distant form that if she flexed her toes she would touch.

_ Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never— _

Miranda ground her teeth. The voices hadn’t stopped. Some came and went like she couldn’t quite tune into them, but other times it seemed like she lost control of the dial entirely. She ached for radio silence. The static between voices was more bearable than the voices themselves.

_ If this guy says one more fucking word, I’m gonna kill him. _

Miranda gently banged her head against the wall. She closed her eyes, stilled, and found the pocket door in her brain to the abyss with the lights. It was the one place that she could disappear to that the voices stopped. She would take that hallucination over the voices anyday.

The abyss was no longer silent. Now, the voices were quiet murmurs contained to the orbs. They pulsed with the rise and fall of the sentences. Miranda watched the one that was green-pretending-to-be-brown. Its pulse was slower than most of the others. She gently stroked it.

“You need a name,” she said. “Calling you by your color is… impersonal.” She scoffed and shook her head. “Impersonal. I’m fucking talking to an imaginary orb that repeats things like ‘Getting angry will only make things worse.’ I’ve lost it, I’ve fucking lost it.”

She dropped her hand. She swallowed thickly. Miranda knew with all her being that this orb was called Bruce. She ran over to the red-tiger-stripes and rested her hand on it. Maria. The lavender-with-yellow-flecks: Hanna. Sky-blue-silver: Karol. She ran to all of them — every single orb had a name and when she touched them, she sank into them. Memories floated to the surface and the cacophony of voices quieted to just one.

Her fingers played with the smoky outer layer of the grassy yellow orb called Greg. He was thinking about chocolate cake. Then it clicked.

Thoughts. The voices were thoughts.

She could hear other people’s thoughts.

Miranda opened her eyes. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. This room had messed with her head more than she thought it had. But at the same time, she couldn’t convince herself that it wasn’t real. There was one way to find out.

She closed her eyes. The lights waited for her. Miranda waded through them until she found the one she was looking for: the one that burned with cold.

Miranda placed her palm on it and ignored the pain. She ignored the numbness that crept up her arm in increments until it was at her chest. Ignored the way the cold flooded her entire body. She pushed her hand down into the orb.

She felt her mind splinter and come back together. The surface of the orb gave away and her hand plunged into the icy deep only to find warmth at the center. She followed it.

The warm sensation lead her to a garden unlike anything she had ever seen. The flowers seemed to glow with life and the sky was painted with dozens of colors. Large moons hung in the sky. Miranda followed the sound of a woman’s voice through the garden. Flat stones lined the path and she could feel the dip between them with her feet as she walked.

Underneath a tree sat a woman in a golden dress, her hair pulled back in complex braids. She was breathtakingly regal. Miranda watched in rapture as the woman conjured a glowing sigil. Her fingers moved rapidly, purposefully.

A soft gasp pulled Miranda’s attention to the dark-haired child curled up against the woman. His green eyes watched her every movement, mystified by the magic in front of him. Another boy ran past, a mop of unruly blond hair on his head and a wooden sword in his hand. A few other children followed him, similarly armed.

“Be careful, Thor,” the woman said.

“I will, Mother!” he called back, already out of Miranda’s sight.

The woman nudged the boy by her. He sat up and held up his hands. Together, they moved their hands to make the sigil appear. The boy’s sputtered but stayed bright.

“That’s wonderful, Loki! You have a natural gift for magic,” the woman said. She hugged him gently.

All his focus was on the sigil.

Miranda pulled her hand out of the orb and the garden vanished. She shook uncontrollably, suddenly exhausted. She sat down hard and snapped back to the harsh nothing of her cell. Miranda staggered to her feet and collapsed onto the bed.

*****

She couldn’t see her hands but it didn’t matter. She’d made a spark, a flicker of the sigil she had seen the woman create. Its shape floated in her vision for a moment.

She tried again. It took shape between her fingers, the light jumped from one spot to another as she moved them in a rhythmic dance until she snapped her wrists and the sigil took shape between her hands.

Miranda laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. “I did it! I can do magic.”

Her right hand fell away. The sigil continued to glow over her left and she held it. She held it and stared at it until it began to flicker and her mouth tasted metallic. She curled her fingers into her palm and watched it fade away.

Her mind, no matter how broken, couldn’t imagine light. But she could create it.

*****

The next time the lights were raised to a dim light, Miranda stood in the middle of the tiny room. She moved her hands and conjured the sigil, its soft glow illuminated her face. Miranda smirked.

She could only imagine the image she cast. Matted hair, filthy skin. Her feet were bare but planted firm. She breathed heavily while she held the spell.

The room lights slowly climbed to full brightness. She dropped the spell.

“I hope you’re not still looking for answers,” she said. “All you’ll find is questions.”

“So it seems.” He unlocked the door. “Follow me.”


	5. A New Player

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda begins to recover from her time spent in solitary and readjusts to her surroundings. But she's learned that she shouldn't pass up an opportunity. When Miranda learns information that sends her world spinning, she weaponizes it to get ahead.

Miranda stared at her reflection, unrecognizable to herself. She’d washed her hair so many times but it was still dull and lifeless, like a dirty penny. Her skin was pale with dark shadows under her eyes. She rubbed more balm onto her lips with her finger. They were still painfully dry.

“Enter,” she called.

Karol opened the door and slipped in. Her brow was furrowed. “How did you — nevermind. I just wanted to give you a progress report, now that you’re back.”

Miranda nodded. She gripped the desk and took a deep breath. Karol’s thoughts were so loud now that she was in the same room.

“I managed to get a toe in, but Stark’s AI is programmed to learn. It’ll take some effort to actually get in the door. I’m learning, too, so.” She shrugged.

“Thanks for catching me up.”

Karol nodded and turned for the door. She froze for a moment. She wanted to ask what had happened, where had Miranda been, was she all right. But Karol didn’t ask. She decided against it and left.

The moment she left Miranda could breathe again. She could still hear people’s thoughts, but they were distant, far away. She could almost tune them out.

Almost.

*****

Maria came by sometime later. Miranda wasn’t sure when. Loki had gotten her room outfitted with blackout curtains before her release, and she’d created her own schedule, her own night and day. She had to learn what those words meant again.

Miranda lay on her side on the bed and Maria laid down behind her. She wrapped her arms around Miranda. As she shifted closer, Miranda shivered.

“You’re freezing, why aren’t you under the blankets?” Maria rubbed her hand up and down Miranda’s arm.

“Right, blankets,” Miranda said. She’d forgotten they were there. Warm and clean. She rolled off the bed and peeled them back. She laid back down and turned away from Maria.

“Are… are you all right?” Maria hugged her from behind again.. “You were gone for five weeks.”

“For five —” Miranda crumbled. Five weeks. She spent five weeks in solitary. How was she still a person? How could she still function?

“It felt longer, didn’t it?” Maria said.

“No. Yes. I-I don’t know. Time…” She flailed her hands aimlessly. “Time meant nothing in there.” She licked her lips. “It still doesn’t.”

Maria sighed and rolled off the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll go find you something to eat.”

“Wait,” Miranda said. She caught Maria’s wrist. “Did Karol, um, she said that —”

“Yeah. We’re working on it. Don’t worry.” She smiled gently before she turned away.

Miranda watched her leave. Then she closed her eyes to stave off the mounting migraine that came from being in such close proximity to another person. Even though she was hungry, she didn’t want Maria to come back. But she did, and with a tray of food and pitcher of water. Maria set it on the desk, then turned to survey the room with her hands on her hips. She blew a breath out through her lips and nodded decisively.

Miranda sat up so Maria could get to the pillows. Even moved some of them herself. They built a nest of pillows and blankets next to the window and Maria pulled back the curtain. Miranda sat in the puddle of sunlight before Maria could even ask her to.

Maria frowned. “How are you —”

“One step ahead of you?” Miranda patted the floor next to her. “I’ll try to explain.”

Maria nodded. She quickly grabbed the tray from the desk and brought it over. She sat down next to Miranda and pressed her back to the glass. She started to peel an orange.

Miranda swallowed and fiddled with the edge of a blanket. Then she started from the top. She told Maria how she’d gone to find Karol, how she’d gone down a floor to cut through without getting caught but ended up getting caught by Loki himself, how he’d locked her in the dark, and how her mind transformed when it should have broken irreparably.

“I’m one step ahead because I can read your thoughts,” Miranda said. She turned the final slice of the orange over in her hands. Maria had been handing her slices as she’d told her story. “And I know it sounds crazy, but I think I broke into Loki’s memories and learned something.”

“Learned what?”

Miranda shoved the orange slice into her mouth. She shifted and brought her hands up. For the first time, she actually watched her hands move as she conjured the light spell. She felt the tug in her lower back as the sigil began to take shape and glow.

“It’s beautiful,” Maria whispered. She reached out to touch it. The light wrapped around her hand and up her arm. She laughed. “Magic,” she said reverently as she stared at her arm.

Miranda dropped the spell and the glow faded away. “That’s how I know it’s real. That it’s not just voices, that it’s actual thoughts and memories.”

“There’s one more test we could do,” Maria said.

Miranda stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“I won’t feel anything, right? Come on, learn something about me.” She shook her hair out of her face. “I’ll even make it easier and focus on peeling another orange for you.”

“I don’t need another —”

“You’re at risk for scurvy, I’m feeding you oranges.”

Miranda clamped her mouth shut. She closed her eyes and found the abyss. Maria’s orb was the closest to her and she plunged her hand into it. It didn’t burn. It didn’t hurt. It felt warm, like a sip of hot chocolate sliding down her throat on a cold winter’s day.

Miranda followed the warm sensation at the center of the orb through Maria’s memories until she found one that she couldn’t have guessed at.

Maria, maybe all of thirteen, sat on the stoop of a brownstone in the heat of summer. Beside her sat a younger Emilia and a boy that Miranda didn’t know but could tell was related to them. He had the same nose and ears as Maria. The three of them licked happily at popsicles that melted faster than they could keep up. A man in a navy suit walked up to the stairs with a briefcase in hand. He ruffled the boy’s hair as he passed and said something to them in Spanish.

Miranda opened her eyes. “Your father used to call you ‘chiquita’ when you were a kid, partly because you really liked bananas.”

Maria nodded. “Congrats, you’re not crazy.”

“Great.” Her shoulders sagged with relief. Miranda accepted the peeled orange. As she broke it apart, she realized that things were quieter now. Maria’s thoughts weren’t oppressively loud. They had faded to the same distant hum as anyone else’s.

As she chewed, she tried to tune back into Maria. Her thoughts got louder. She moved away. Quieter. She sought out Karol. Louder. Moved on. Quieter.

She’d gotten control of the radio dial. She smiled to herself.

“What did they tell you?” Miranda asked. “About where I was.”

“They didn’t say much of anything,” Maria said. “Madame snapped at Hanna when she asked; said it wasn’t any of our business. So I went over her head. I asked him about it.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped up to look at Maria’s. “And what did he say?”

Maria sighed. “That you were in a cell until you told him why you were on a restricted floor and if I asked again, I’d get to see one myself.”

“As happy as I am to see you all, I’m disappointed that nothing’s changed.”

“What do you mean?”

It was Miranda’s turn to sigh. “I mean that he didn’t know we are slaves and that he was really upset about it when I told him. I thought — well,  _ hoped _ , really — that he would have let you all go while I was, you know.” She shrugged. “But I guess not.”

“Yeah,” Maria said, “I guess not.” She slumped against the window. “I guess not,” she repeated to herself.

*****

Miranda hopped down from the exam table. The doctor handed her some pills and told her when to take them. She’d recover within a few weeks. Physically, at least. Mentally, it could take a lifetime. Miranda gave the doctor a tight-lipped smile and left. Even though she was better at tuning out thoughts, she had difficulty with shared spaces. It was like everyone wore a strong perfume that made her gag.

She stretched her neck as she waited for the elevator. The doors opened to reveal a young man. He held an envelope in his hands. She tore her eyes away from the black collar on his neck.

“Miss Douglas,” he said, surprised to find her so quickly. He held out the envelope.

Miranda took it as she stepped into the elevator. She absently pressed the button for the gym floor. “Thanks.” Miranda untucked the flap and pulled out the letter.

They rode in silence.

“I’ll be there,” Miranda said. She handed the letter and envelope back to the man. “Thanks, Lucas,” she said over her shoulder as she stepped out of the elevator.

“How do you —” The doors closed and cut him off.

“Cause I know everything,” Miranda mumbled under her breath.

She headed straight for the punching bags. There was no one around to stop her, to tell her that she needed to be delicate, graceful. She didn’t want to be delicate anymore. If she was to be full of grace, she wanted  _ deadly _ in front of it. This wasn’t about what Pierce wanted or what Madame wanted or what Loki wanted. This was about working up a good sweat and relearning her muscles. This was about being able to move around without her knees threatening to give out every time she took a step. This was about her and her alone.

*****

Maria leaned against the desk as Miranda stared into the tabletop mirror. Miranda abandoned the makeup brush and blended out the rouge with her fingers.

“You shouldn’t go,” Maria said.

“And why’s that?” Miranda turned her head from side to side. Then she looked up at Maria. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Because I don’t want you to go.” She paused. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Miranda hummed and picked up her lipstick.

Maria huffed. “Fine, I’m scared that you’re gonna disappear again and come back in even worse shape if you come back at all. I’m scared of him and I’m scared of him for you.”

“I should be scared, shouldn’t I?” Miranda said to her reflection. She set the lipstick down and grabbed the tissue to blot. “I’m not, but I should be.” She could feel the part of her that was scared, the tiny little corner of her brain that was still aware of things like self-preservation and trauma. The rest of her was numb.

Maria rubbed her thumb over the crease in Miranda’s forehead. “That’s because you’re stupid.”

“One part brave, two parts fool,” Miranda said. She stared at her reflection a moment longer. “He invited me, personally. I’m going so that none of you have to because if he wants me then he won’t need you.” She straightened out the brushes on the desk.

“Last time you said that and went with him, we lost you.”

“I need answers, Maria.” She turned to look at her. “And this time is different.”

“How the fuck is it different?”

Miranda got up. “Help me into the dress?” she asked. She pulled the red cocktail dress out of its bag.

Maria rolled her eyes but helped anyway. Miranda held her hair out of the way as Maria zipped her up.

“It’s different because this time I can read his thoughts,” Miranda said. It hurt to read Loki’s mind, the memory of the cold alone made her shudder, but she could.

Maria sighed. “All right. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or would do.” She turned Miranda around so she could look her in the eye. “On second thought, just come back. Preferably by breakfast tomorrow.”

Miranda smiled and laughed weakly. “I’ll do my best.”

*****

Miranda smiled tightly as Loki refilled her wine glass. They were moving on from the salad course to the main course and Miranda was still caught up in processing the fact that this was a multi-course meal. For just the two of them. Literally just them, because there was no one else on the entire floor, as far as Miranda could tell. She hadn’t seen anyone and Loki actually got up to bring everything to the table.

“You’re tense,” he said when he sat back down.

Miranda hummed noncommittally and poked at the bacon-wrapped asparagus. Everything was fancy, from the food to the crystalware to the white tablecloth to the fucking candle on the table. She couldn’t figure out what he wanted from her.

“I’m not trying to trick you.”

“Could have fooled me,” she said and looked him dead in the eye. “You’re the trickster god, why should I trust a word that comes out of your mouth?”

“You’re upset.” Loki dropped her gaze. “I expected as much.”

“Well, forgive me for being a little upset that you locked me away for weeks in the dark. I suppose I’m just overreacting, aren’t I? Would it be easier for you if I pretended it never happened, like how you seem to be pretending that we’re not slaves?”

He said nothing.

Miranda ground her teeth. “Just tell me what you want from me. One moment you stop in the middle of sex because you found out I’m not a free person and the next you’re torturing me. Is this all a game to you?” Distantly, she could hear Madame in her ear, could hear the sharp rebuke for turning the conversation into a confrontation. She wasn’t here to question his authority, she was meant to be a comfort. But that wasn’t her. They couldn’t drill that into her before and there was no hope of it now.

“You’re alive because you’re a companion. If I had found anyone else speaking with Banner, I would have killed them on the spot,” Loki said coolly.

“And why’s that? Hm? What makes me so damn special?”

“You’re unique.”

“So is everyone else.” She locked eyes with him again. “You locked me in there for a reason. What is it?”

He held her gaze this time. “Mr. Pierce told me that you are potentially a  _ very _ special person.”

“How does solitary confinement factor into that?” Miranda asked. Her heart pounded in her chest — had it all been a test? Had they hoped that she would… mutate? Because that was what happened. It had to be. She’d heard about mutants, discussed legislation pertaining to them in class on more than one occasion, but she didn’t know anything about  _ how  _ it happened. There were theories, yes, but biology had never been her strong suit. “Do you have any idea what that does to people?” she asked.

“I assume most aren’t in as good of mental shape as you are.” He steepled his fingers. “But you’re different and that scares you.”

Miranda didn’t rise to the bait.

Loki sighed. “As it stands, you are special, Miss Douglas. You learned magic on your own. I’m curious to learn how.”

“I might tell you,” she said, “if you agree to my terms.”

“You want to learn more magic.”

“I’m not a one-trick pony kind of person.”

The grin that spread across Loki’s face planted a seed of fear in Miranda’s stomach. “No,” he said, “you’re not.”

*****

The others were nervous, worried. Miranda sighed. They were right, she couldn’t hide in her room forever. She let the candle drop onto the desktop as her concentration on the spell faded and slid off her bed. She went up a floor to their common area. The others were spread out on the furniture in the conversation pit. Their conversation froze when they saw her.

Miranda steadied herself against the onslaught of relief that poured out of each of them. As she jumped over the back of the couch, she found the threads that fed her their thoughts and snapped them. The threads would mend themselves eventually, but for now, their thoughts were no louder than Joanna’s, who was three floors below and couldn’t get “Dancing Queen” out of her head.

“So what’d I miss?” Miranda said, like she’d been gone for a few minutes, not weeks.

It was that easy. The conversation started again and Miranda didn’t have to say much of anything while the others talked about what had happened over the last six weeks. The longer she stayed in the same room as them, the calmer they got.

She wasn’t sure why she felt guilty about that.

*****

The soft morning light spilled across the bed and made the entire room glow; day still young and quiet. Most of the people in the building were asleep or had just woken. Miranda knew where everyone was. She knew what they did. She knew that Karol was awake. Karol had nearly cracked the code and gotten into Stark’s system last night and rose at the crack of dawn to try again before she had to be in the kitchen. Nilima prayed in her room, the most religious of them all. Elise slept. Hanna slept. The security guard at the front desk on the ground floor jolted awake when his alarm went off. His replacement was on his way. Every second was a flood of information as people moved but Miranda had found a way to control the flow of information, to sift through it until she found what she wanted. It had taken time, but now Miranda put as much effort into locating someone as she did to hold her breath. A little focus, a little effort. Simple. 

Beside her, Maria groaned and rolled onto her back. “Time is it?” she slurred. She rubbed her eyes.

“It’s still early. Ish.” Miranda smiled gently. She and Maria slept in the same bed more often than not since Miranda’s release. It was a comfort to them both. For Miranda, a gentle reminder that she wasn’t alone; and for Maria, it made her feel better to know Miranda wasn’t going to disappear the second she looked away.

“Why are you awake?”

“I have to meet Loki,” Miranda said. Early morning was often when he had time to teach her magic, and learning that skill was more important to her than sleep at this stage in her life.

“Stupid,” Maria mumbled as she rolled over and wrapped the sheets tighter around her shoulders.

Miranda chuckled softly as she got out of bed. She quickly dressed in a low-cut ruby maxi dress and pulled her hair back. She stabbed a pair of gold post earrings into her ears and quickly applied makeup around her eyes and a touch of lipstick. It was early, stupid early, but she wasn’t going to risk Madame’s ire if she got caught without looking “proper.” Miranda longed for the day she could just wear an oversized flannel over a t-shirt and jeans again. And sneakers. God, she missed sneakers, she thought as she buckled the straps on her shiny gold heels.

She spared one last glance at Maria’s sleeping form as she left.

Loki was at his desk when Miranda walked into his room. To get his attention, she levitated his pen out of his hand. He looked up and smiled.

“I told you I was a quick learner,” she said with her hands loose by her sides. She hadn’t needed them to focus on this spell for a day or two now. She still needed them for other spells, but she’d only been his student for about a month now.

“I never doubted that,” he said and plucked the pen out of the air. “Perhaps it’s time I gave you a challenge.”

Miranda smirked, a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I love a good challenge,” she said. She called the pen to her and caught it. It rested heavy on her palm as she curled her fingers around it.

Loki rose and rounded the desk to stand in front of her. He was much taller than her, even with the heels that gave her an extra three inches. He took the pen from her and held it so the point was towards the ceiling. Miranda shifted her gaze from his face to the pen and watched as it vanished with a flick of his wrist, then reappeared a moment later when he flicked his wrist again.

“Where does it go?” she asked. She gently grabbed the pen.

“A pocket dimension,” he said as he moved to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “Picture it in your mind. Imagine a place that only you can find, a place where you can find this pen again when you want it. Then send it there.”

Miranda took a deep breath and did exactly that. She flicked her wrist just as Loki had but the pen remained in her hand. She ground her teeth and adjusted her stance. She tried again. The pen stayed firmly in her grasp.

“It may take some time,” Loki said. “I told you this would be a challenge.”

Miranda looked over her shoulder at him. “You did.” She sighed and looked at the pen again. She flicked her wrist again and hummed when the pen stayed put. “You just made it look so easy.”

Loki chuckled. “I’ve had centuries of practice, Miss Douglas.” His hands slid from her shoulders. Loki returned to his desk.

Miranda sat in the plush chair across from him and continued to practice while he worked. She could feel that she was close to vanishing this stupid pen. They were quiet for a few minutes while they focused on their respective tasks.

“There’s a dinner tonight,” Loki said. “I should hope I don’t need to remind you of our agreement.”

“No,” Miranda said. “I haven’t forgotten.” How could she? She had agreed to accompany him to formal events and dinners as part of the price for magic lessons. She flicked her wrist again. “When should I be ready?”

“The car will be waiting outside at five-thirty sharp.”

Miranda nodded. They lapsed into silence again. At eight o’clock, Miranda put the pen down on the desk and rose from the chair. Even though she was with Loki at the moment, Madame would be angry if she missed breakfast. She would claim that Miranda had been a distraction to him. Miranda doubted that. He never seemed to notice when she left.

*****

Miranda stepped into the lobby of the Ark with five minutes to spare. The car hadn’t even pulled up to the curb yet. She adjusted her grip on the sleek black clutch in her hand. It perfectly matched her off-the-shoulder cocktail dress. Her ankles already protested against the teetering six-inch heels on her feet, but it closed most of their height difference. For photo purposes. Miranda nervously checked her dangling diamond earrings to make sure they weren’t caught in her hair. They looked like tiny chandeliers and had a matching necklace and bracelet.

Miranda scanned the room. A pair of armed guards flanked the door inside and out; another pair walked the perimeter. A guard stood next to the elevators. Any attempt to leave through this door would be easily met with deadly force. Maybe not for her, since she was of value, but Miranda wasn’t so desperate that she wanted to test those odds. Not tonight.

Loki walked up to her side and offered his elbow as the car pulled outside. Miranda let her mask slide over her face as she smiled at him. For the next few hours, her only job was to look pretty. Her mission, however, was private. She planned to learn as much about these so-called S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as she could. By any means necessary.

Miranda curled her hand around Loki’s elbow and followed him out to the car. Once the doors slammed closed behind them, Loki pulled a pen out of his suit coat and handed it to her. She took it and practiced. Aside from her increasingly frustrated huffs, the ride was quiet.

The dinner was held in the same ballroom where she and Loki had first met a lifetime ago. Circular tables covered in white cloth took up most of the room. The stage was no longer the realm of entertainment. No, the band set up in the back of the room on a small platform. The stage held a long table for a select few to dine at.

Miranda was one of those people, seated between Loki to her left and Pierce to right. Pierce was too close for comfort, but Miranda wasn’t about to scoot any closer to Loki.

She sipped her wine and tried to ignore the way that Pierce leaned towards her when he spoke to Loki. She clenched her jaw so she wouldn’t say something stupid. Six courses. They were on the third. She wasn’t sure she could get through them all without murdering Pierce. She wondered if this was a test.

By the time the fish course was taken away, Miranda had retreated to her abyss. She liked to see all the different colors that people could be. There was a woman towards the back that was an electric green with a peach belt. One of the servers was snowy white with rainbow splatters. Pierce was a deep purple with bronze flecks.

Miranda considered his orb. His thoughts were always quieter than everyone else’s. She pushed through the outer layer.

She dropped her fork and it clattered against her plate. There was no warmth in the center. No happy memories to follow. Everything was lukewarm like it had been left to sit out for too long.

“My lady?” Loki said.

Miranda blinked. “Sorry, um, just a little tired.” She picked her fork up and set it to the side of her plate. “I’m gonna get some air.” She pulled the napkin off her lap and set it on the table. She left as quickly as she could without causing a scene.

In the hallway, she leaned against the wall and tried to collect herself. She focused on her breathing until she was sure she wasn’t going to pass out or something. And then she went back. There had to be a reason that Pierce didn’t have a core of treasured memories.

Miranda poked around. Memories, no matter whose they were, were horribly unorganized. Everything was arranged by when the person had last thought about it, which was a stupid system. She figured she had to go a decent ways back down memory lane to find an answer. Something buried in childhood. She peeked into other memories, too, of course. Which is why she stopped looking. Miranda covered her mouth and tried to steady herself as she took in the scene in front of her.

A man was strapped into a chair. A clamp was over his face and she couldn’t make out who he was. But he screamed. He screamed and screamed. No one in the room cared. No one flinched. Someone handed Pierce a manila folder. Pierce flipped through it, nodded, and handed it back.

Miranda froze the memory. She wanted to help the man in the chair but first, she had to find out what was going on. Pierce had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. for years. Maybe this was — as horrific as it was — different than she thought. Maybe she read the room wrong. She grabbed the file. Her stomach sank. She knew that symbol, the skull surrounded by tentacles: Hydra. She looked at the patch on the guard’s shoulder. S.H.I.E.L.D.

Miranda opened the file. Most of it was blank and what was there didn’t make much sense. A location, a name, a time frame. She put the file back. Let the memory play out.

The man’s screams stopped. The chair released him. For the first time, Miranda noticed that his left arm was made entirely of metal. The plates shifted as he sat up. He was handed the file. Once he had read it, he nodded and handed it back.

Miranda searched for a name. She needed to know who this man was. All she found was a codename: the Winter Soldier.

Miranda scrambled out of Pierce’s memories and opened her eyes. A sob caught in her throat, which made it difficult to breathe. She’d heard that name before. Straight from Pierce’s mouth.

Miranda licked her lips and plunged into Loki’s memories with the same caution she’d take with a polar plunge. She ran through everything that happened since he locked her in that cell to see if he knew anything about the Winter Soldier. He didn’t.

Miranda came back to herself. She hurried to the bathroom and after she was sure that it was empty, locked the door. Her face was a puffy mess. As quickly as she could, she fixed her face. People had started to notice that she was gone. She had to go back.

“There’s fucking Nazis,” she told her reflection. “Christ.” She pushed away from the sink. “Fucking hell.” She paced for a moment and swore enough to make a sailor blush. Miranda didn’t want to go back into that swarming pit of snakes.

Loki said Pierce thought she was special. The thought made her stomach roll.

But she had the upper hand. She took a deep breath and smoothed her dress. A quick adjustment to her hair. Then she went back out to the ballroom.

They had moved onto the salad course. Miranda sat back down and put her napkin back in her lap.

Loki leaned in to whisper to her. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. She flashed her most convincing smile. “I just felt light-headed all of a sudden and needed some air.”

He could tell it wasn’t the full truth but he didn’t press either. Loki turned back to his meal. She had something up her sleeve and he knew it.

What a pair they made.

*****

After dinner came drinks. The high table went into a private lounge, and to her surprise, Loki didn’t send Miranda away. When she moved to remove her arm from his, he placed his hand on hers and told her to stay. She did.

It was worth it.

“And what are we going to do about the Avengers? They’ve been causing trouble across the globe since this all started,” said Laura Schribe, an older woman who used to be a senator from Virginia who now acted as the Minister of Finance.

Miranda rolled her eyes and leaned into Loki. She was curled up on the couch, poised to be more decoration than anything. She knew full well that Loki liked to show her off. The shining jewel in his collection. And everyone’s suspicions slid off her like water, which allowed her to observe and learn more than they wanted.

“We’ve got it under control,” Pierce said. He could talk a big game, Miranda gave him that. “Our agents have pushed them back every time.”

“But if the Avengers keep popping up, then you must not be doing everything you can,” Miranda said. All eyes turned to her. “Perhaps if you used all the resources at your disposal they wouldn’t be an issue anymore.” She hid her smirk behind her glass as she took a sip of whiskey.

Pierce bristled. “We  _ are  _ using all our resources, Miss Douglas.”

“Even the Winter Soldier?” she asked innocently.

You could hear a pin drop. Miranda smirked as Pierce’s face warped from surprise to confusion to fear to rage. “Well,” she said, “are you?” The silence stretched on. “I’ll take that as a  _ no _ .”

She sat up when she felt Loki shift. He rose to his feet and addressed the room at large.

“Would someone like to explain to me how she knows information that has not been revealed to me?”

Miranda set her drink down on the coffee table and got to her feet. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, her chin on his shoulder. “Remember, my king, you need them alive,” she said. She met Pierce’s gaze. “Especially if you wish to see the fist of Hydra in action.”


	6. The Moment Is Critical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is as it seems, but Miranda learns that neither Hydra nor Loki will ever be quick to let her go. She's far too important for that, though the reasons differ. In the end, Miranda has to make a decision that will alter the course of her life and her relationship with Loki forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up being really long and coming in at 6,501 words... Prepare to scroll?

The conversation droned on around her. Miranda had zoned out long ago, only paying enough attention to inject “Oh, of course” or “That’s a shame, really” or “Do go on” or any number of other empty phrases that were allegedly essential to a proper conversation on the part of the listener. Madame hovered around the edge of their group. She paced in slow circles as she listened to them make small talk. Conversation was a dreary thing to study.

“It has rained very often this week,” Nilma said.

“I hope the streets don’t flood,” said Hanna. “It would be terribly inconvenient.”

“It would be,” Maria said. She nudged Miranda.

“Yes, terribly inconvenient.” She glanced at Maria, then the others. All of them were barely hiding their boredom. “Perhaps we should discuss something more interesting, like Hobbes’ _Leviathan_.” Madame’s hand came down swiftly on her ear. “Or not.”

“You know better than to use that tone, Miss Douglas. I hope you behave yourself when you’re with the king,” Madame said harshly.

“Well, we’re usually too busy to chat,” Miranda said. “Usually all I have to say is ‘yes,’ ‘please,’ and ‘more.’ Maybe the occasional ‘harder.’” She winked at the others, who all fought to maintain their composure and stifle their laughter.

“On your feet, Miss Douglas.” The laughter died.

Slowly, Miranda rose from the stiff office chair. She braced herself against the table for a moment before she stood straight and held her head high as she faced Madame. Miranda wondered how long it would take, how many times she would have to stomach the indignity of being lashed before Madame realized that it wouldn’t break her.

There was a faint knock at the door. They all turned to see Pierce himself in the doorway. He glanced from Madame to Miranda then back.

“I need to speak with Miss Douglas,” he said. “Give us the room.”

Madame nodded. She looked to the others as they quickly rose from their seats to leave. Madame left the room first, the others behind her in a line. Miranda didn’t move from where she stood as they left or after Pierce closed the door behind them.

“I understand that you are a difficult student.”

“So the principal’s office came to me? I’m flattered.” She took a deep breath. “But you’re not here to discuss my academics.”

“No,” he said as he walked to stand across the table from her, “I’m not.” Pierce put his hands in his pockets. “I’d like to discuss what happened last night.”

“Ah,” Miranda said with a smirk. She locked eyes with him. “You don’t like that I know things I shouldn’t.”

“I’m more interested in _how_ you know than _what_ you know.”

Miranda chuckled. “And you expect me to just _tell_ you? That’s not how this works.”

“You overestimate your importance, Miss Douglas.”

Miranda considered it with faux seriousness. “Yet you came to me rather than have me escorted to your office because you’re worried about what his majesty might think if he learns about this conversation.”

Pierce ground his teeth but otherwise remained calm. “Miss Douglas, just tell me how you came to know the information you shared last night.”

Miranda considered her options, the few that there were. She could tell the truth, she could lie, she could find a middle ground. But, in the end, she didn’t have to tell him anything, and they both knew it.

Miranda smirked. “From you,” she said. His shock and confusion were worth every second of whatever would come for her after this. It was the truth, the full truth, and that made it all the more interesting to share. She listened to his thoughts as they flitted across his mind.

He kept thinking about an old project, Project Changeling. His memories reordered themselves as he thought about it, a process that left Miranda with more questions than answers. But she knew one thing for certain now: they had hoped she was a mutant.

It was the only reason she existed in the first place, the mission behind Project Changeling. The facts, though scattered, incomplete, were these: in the late 1980s, Hydra operatives found a store of cryogenically frozen embryos that had been shaped to produce powerful mutants. Only a few were viable, and of those few, Miranda was the only one that had survived this long. Two had died as children. Another had been killed in an accident. All of them had been strong enough to bring nations to their knees if they had been so inclined.

That was what was special about her. That was why there was a comprehensive file of her life in Hydra’s database. That was why Pierce was determined for her to be with Loki.

The only thing more powerful than either of them would be their child.

*****

Miranda pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. It was cold out on the landing strip now, even though they stood in the sun. Karol’s fingers flew across the glass as she tried to stay one step ahead of the AI.

“Have you tried to call your uncle again?” Maria asked Miranda.

Miranda nodded. “Voicemail. But I get it, ya know? Calls are easy to trace.”

“Yeah, but you’re calling for help. He should answer.”

“I’m sure S.H.I.E.L.D. is working as fast as they can.”

Maria huffed. She didn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D., not when the people holding them captive claimed to be part of the same organization. Miranda had told her the truth, that Hydra was behind all this; but didn’t matter — Hydra had become an infestation in S.H.I.E.L.D. They were too intertwined for S.H.I.E.L.D. to survive after the fallout.

The sun started to sink lower. Miranda checked the time on Karol’s watch. She had to be back in the kitchen soon to prep for dinner. She and Maria shared a glance. For some reason, this felt like their last chance. It had been months — if this attempt didn’t work, maybe it never would. They’d have to find a different way to get out. Miranda knew, though she didn’t want to admit it to herself, that if it came down to it, she’d be the only one they wouldn’t let get away. The others were expendable. She wasn’t, and she knew that she would have to stay behind to give them a fighting chance if things went sideways.

 _Please work_ , Miranda thought. Silently, she begged for their plan to work.

The screen emitted a happy chirp.

“Oh my god,” Karol said, “I did it.”

“System online,” the screen said. They all sucked in a breath. The air around them was electric with excitement. “System updated.”

“That was fast,” Karol said.

“Protocol dictates that I inform you that our conversation will be relayed to Mr. Stark, given the circumstances,” it said.

“That’s the idea,” Karol said. She grinned at Maria and Miranda. They grinned back. This was it. They could get a message out and if they could do that, then they could get out. They could leave.

The AI was called Jarvis. The three of them gave him a quick rundown on everything that had happened in the tower since May and they learned that it was late September. They shared any information they thought could be useful to Stark and the other Avengers. Karol told him the kitchen’s delivery schedule and where the food deliveries came in. Miranda shared what she knew about the floor below the kitchen and made sure to stress that Dr. Banner’s cell was lined with pressure sensors that were connected to explosives. They shared what they knew about the slaves' ranks and what the responsibilities of each were.

“Is there any other information that Mr. Stark should know?” Jarvis asked.

Miranda swallowed. “Yes. Um, Alexander Pierce says he’s in charge. And that he’s S.H.I.E.L.D., but he’s actually Hydra and I think everyone else that came with him is, too. And he has an operative that he calls the Winter Soldier.” She licked her lips. “I have reason to believe that the Winter Soldier is not a willing participant.”

“Understood. Do you wish to share your reason?”

“No.” Miranda stared at the ground. She trusted the Avengers to rescue them. She didn’t trust that they would believe that she could read minds, mutant or no. Everything else she shared was observable and she had experienced with her own senses. She supposed her superpowers were just an extra sense. She still didn’t want to share, not when there was still the possibility that Pierce didn’t know she had powers, however slim that chance may be.

“Very well. If that is everything that you wish to relay, I will pass this on to Mr. Stark,” Jarvis said.

Karol looked to Miranda. She nodded. “That’s everything, Jarvis. Go ahead,” Karol said.

The three of them hugged each other tightly and prayed to any and every god that was listening that Tony Stark would get the transmission. And that Hydra wouldn’t.

*****

For weeks, nothing happened. On the one hand, it meant that Hydra didn’t know about the transmission. On the other hand, it possibly meant that the transmission didn’t go through at all. Karol had talked to Jarvis for some time before she put him into sleep mode. His access to the building was limited thanks to Hydra’s interference, but there were a few nooks and crannies that they’d forgotten. If — _when_ — the Avengers came, Jarvis needed to be able to access those spots. Until then, he slept.

In the meantime, they kept themselves busy. The companions still had their lessons, and Miranda still studied magic under Loki’s guidance. She had yet to successfully send an object to a pocket dimension, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. The other pieces of magic that he taught her were parlor tricks, easy things that didn’t take much thought once she knew how to do it. But creating a pocket dimension was difficult.

Miranda let the smoke straighten itself out, bored of shaping it with her mind. She spun a bracelet around her finger for a moment before she tried to send it away. Nothing.

“You’re focusing too hard on the place,” Loki said. “Focus on what you want to do.” He grabbed the bracelet out of her hand as he passed by her and sat in the other armchair in his room. “You want it to vanish” — the bracelet disappeared — “and you want it to return.” The bracelet reappeared. “The where doesn’t matter,” he said and returned the bracelet.

Miranda nodded and tried again. A flick of the wrist and the bracelet was gone. She stared at her empty hand. She twisted it and pictured the bracelet in her mind’s eye. Then it was in her hand again. She slipped it back onto her wrist. “You should have said that months ago.”

“But then you would have been able to do it months ago,” he countered.

Miranda laughed. “I see. Well, then I suppose you want to keep your secrets,” she said. “I won’t bother you for any more lessons.”

“I thought you enjoyed these lessons.” He met her gaze, his demeanor just as playful as hers.

“I do,” she said. It was true, and the truth was, she liked to spend time with him. He was interesting and unlike anyone she had ever met, which she supposed was the natural byproduct of knowing someone who wasn’t human. “Though I think Madame disproves,” she added. Miranda was confident she had some influence but she had to be sure.

“Why would she disprove? I thought your station was to provide companionship, and that is precisely what you are doing.” He leaned forward.

“That’s what I thought. Apparently, we were both wrong on that count.” She sighed. “I would ask Madame for clarification, but we’re not on the best of terms. Unlike you, she doesn’t care for my sharp wit.”

Loki took her hand in his own. “Consider the matter settled. I will speak to her.”

Miranda smiled. “Thank you, your majesty.”

He kissed the back of her hand before he got to his feet. Loki pulled Miranda to her feet, her hand still in his. “Our dinner should be ready by now,” he said as he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Wonderful,” Miranda said with a flirty twinkle in her eye. “I’m famished.” She leaned into him as they walked out of the room and down the hall to his private dining room.

Miranda had been anxious since the moment she had received the invitation to a private dinner. Her stomach was in knots for the last three days and the feeling hadn’t eased until she had arrived on his floor over an hour ago. The moment it was right in front of her, she realised that it was hardly different than any other time they had been alone together.

Loki pulled out one of the chairs for her. She sat and looked over the table, at the candles and flowers, the white tablecloth and crystal glasses. The second place setting was to her left, not across from her. It all suggested an intimacy that she hadn’t expected. Even more surprising was that she couldn’t say that it was unwelcome.

Loki sat down and reached for the bottle of wine chilling in the bucket on the table. “I thought it was time we learned more about each other,” he said as he filled their glasses. “We spend so much time together and I know so very little about you.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” Miranda took a sip of her wine. Her eyes flit over to the two waiters who brought out their food for a moment before she focused on Loki again.

“Anything you are willing to share,” he said and took a sip from his own glass, “and I will share in kind. As long as we are honest with each other.”

Miranda smiled and nodded. “Decent terms. Well, I have a brother, Levi. He’s younger than me by about three years.”

“An older brother, Thor.”

“What’s the worst trouble you two got into as children?” Miranda asked. “I’m curious to know how much the myths differ from reality.”

Loki laughed. “There are many occasions that come to mind.”

“Then just pick one. You can tell me the others some other time.”

Loki thought for a moment, then launched into his tale. He told her of a time when he and Thor were young, children who were too young to know any better. They had wandered away from the citadel in the woods that surrounded Asgard after they had slipped past the guards. They weren’t supposed to be there for their own safety, which they didn’t believe as children do. A ranger found them just before they stumbled onto a group of brigands who would have ransomed the two princes.

“Odin was furious when the ranger returned us, but he was often angry. It was our mother’s anger that frightened us,” Loki said. “Neither of us was eager to try something like that again.”

Miranda chuckled. “My brother and I did something like that. We lived barely a block away from Lake Michigan, and one summer it was ungodly hot, so we decided to go for a swim. I was maybe nine… Levi would have been six or seven. We didn’t ask, didn’t say where we were going.” She twisted the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. “I remember going under the water and then when I popped my head up our parents were on shore yelling for us to come back in. My dad ran out into the water and scooped us up when we said we wanted to keep swimming.”

“Perhaps our childhoods weren’t terribly different,” Loki said.

“I’d hardly call Gladstone a citadel. I think calling it a town is generous.” She chuckled. “But, yeah, maybe they weren’t that different.”

They talked for hours after the food was gone. Miranda wasn’t sure how many bottles of wine they drank, but she knew it was probably more than two people should drink by themselves and still have their wits about them. She remembered everything growing fuzzy after a while, from both the alcohol and the late hour. By then they had moved back to the chairs, though Miranda braided his hair at one point before she ended up in his lap.

“You’re more sober than me,” she said. “Not fair.” She played with a loose chunk of his hair.

“Midgardian wine is hardly strong enough to turn me into a drunken fool,” Loki said as he downed the last dregs in his glass.

“That sounds like a challenge.” She grinned.

“Perhaps for another evening,” he said. He set his empty glass aside and took hers from her hand to set it on the side table as well. Loki wrapped his arms around her. “For tonight, I think we have both had enough.”

“Probably,” Miranda said. She leaned her head against his shoulder. Part of her wondered why she had allowed herself to get this drunk. It was a poor decision, but the rest of her was thrilled to be loose and relaxed. It took all of her focus to watch what she said. “This was nice,” she said honestly. She didn’t see the harm in admitting that.

“I agree.” He hugged her closer. They both fell quiet, and shortly after, Miranda fell asleep.

She woke up in her own bed the next morning. A glass of water sat on the bedside table. Beside it was a note. Miranda stumbled to the bathroom but read the note when she came back. It was an invitation to spend an afternoon together a few weeks from then. Sure, it was effectively a press event, but still. Miranda grinned before she caught herself. She shook her head. How much wine was still in her system? She downed the glass of water and looked at her tattoo. No matter what she thought she felt, she had no freedom, no free will. Everything they did together was questionable. And more so, it was a distraction. She needed to focus on escape.

*****

Miranda stepped into Loki’s office after she knocked to find it empty. She closed the door behind her and looked around. She wondered if this was some kind of test, or if someone had been messing with her when she was told Loki had asked for her.

Miranda ran her fingers over the smooth polished wood of the desk as she passed by. Behind the desk was a small table that displayed a scepter. It caught Miranda’s eye whenever she entered the room. It always seemed to pulse with energy like it was alive. Her fingers hovered above the handle, afraid to touch. Her eyes were drawn towards the crystal nested underneath the sharp point. It reverberated with a stronger energy than anything she had ever known. She felt it vibrate through her, stronger the more she focused on it. Almost of their own accord, her fingers brushed over the crystal’s casing.

The crystal flashed as white-hot lightning shot up her arm. Miranda gasped and reeled backward. She collided with the desk. Her heart raced and her mind swam, the echoes of unshakeable loyalty faded as she fought to catch her breath.

Whatever it was, it was powerful and old. Older than Miranda could comprehend. And it wasn’t being used for what it was made for, not quite. Miranda had the unshakeable feeling that there were more stones like this one.

Quickly, she straightened the desk. She moved to stand in front of the bookshelf and pretended to pursue the small collection as the door opened.

Loki paused for a moment in the doorway, caught off guard.

“I was told you asked for me,” she said.

“So it would seem,” Loki said. He closed the door.

Miranda shifted. “You didn’t.”

“No, but I will admit I am glad to see you nonetheless.” Loki stepped farther into the room and set the manila folder he carried down on the desk.

Miranda smiled softly and glanced at her hands. “Since I’m here, maybe I can help.”

“I doubt you can.” Loki sighed. “I do not question your intelligence —”

“Only my qualifications. I know,” she said. “But sometimes the solution to a problem reveals itself when you explain it to someone else.”

Loki sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms. “You are always one step ahead, aren’t you?”

“I try to be,” Miranda said as she stepped closer. She smoothed the lapel of his suit jacket. “Don’t you?” She looked him in the eye.

“Which is precisely why the council believes we are too much alike.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Miranda teased. “Now, come on, what’s bothering you?”

Loki sighed and took her hands into his own for a moment. “The Avengers continue to be a thorn in my side. They have managed to gain territory close enough to launch an attack on us here.”

“I see,” Miranda said, carefully devoid of emotion. “Can you show me on a map?”

Loki nodded. She stepped back so he could move around the desk. Loki pulled a thin tablet out of one of the drawers. After a series of taps on the screen, he handed it to her.

Miranda looked over the map, the markers that delineated where the arms of both sides waited for their next orders. Miranda frowned and zoomed in on a bend in the river. “Why aren’t there any defenses here?” She turned the tablet to show him. “It’s a weak spot for both sides.” In truth, the spot was inconsequential. Miranda didn’t know shit about strategy (not when it came to actual war), but she knew how to make something seem like it was more important than it was. If Hydra moved resources to protect this river bend, it would shift the balance enough that the Avengers could break through the line and get far enough into Manhattan to attack the Ark directly.

Loki took the tablet from her to consider the idea. “War was never my strong suit,” he admitted.

“Well, it’s something to consider,” she said. Miranda rested her hand on his chest over his heart. The moment she touched him she felt a tendril of energy race down her arm. His eyes glowed blue for a moment.

“Consider it done,” he said.

Miranda ripped her hand away. She smiled tightly. When he wasn’t looking at her, she glanced at the staff. The light glinted off the metal like it was mocking her. “It can wait until the morning, can’t it?” she said.

“I suppose it can.” His attention turned back to her. “Provided there is ample reason.”

“I’m sure I can make it worth your while,” Miranda said with a suggestive tilt of her head. “Besides, two birds, one stone.” She stepped closer to him even though she nearly had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact. She slid her hands up his torso to rest on his chest.

“And what are these two birds?” he asked even as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Well, you need to take your mind off things for a bit, and I think we both know the council only disproves of our relationship because we don’t spend much time in bed together.”

“I doubt that is the only reason.”

“It’s the main one,” she said. _Because they want us to have a child,_ she thought. Miranda pushed it aside. She couldn’t think about that right now or she would lose her nerve.

“Perhaps,” Loki said. “Though I regard you too highly to force you to do something against your will.” He stepped back. His hands found hers and he stared at them for a moment. “I am not so selfish that I could do that.”

Miranda felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. He was so _genuine_ it hurt. She could feel his emotions roll off of him, feel all the conflict. He wanted her, badly, but he also carried immense guilt because he kept her here for his own. He couldn’t let her go, not when she was the only person who understood him. Without her, he would be utterly alone. Miranda didn’t know what to do with that. Guilt began to churn in her gut — she was manipulating him and he was falling in love with her.

“What would convince you that I’m willing?” she asked softly. Her head spun. She had to regain control of the situation. If she couldn’t keep his attention, how long would it be before it turned to suspicion? The Avengers were closing in, yes, but how long would that take? Would they even be successful? Miranda wasn’t one to put all her eggs in one basket. She needed to keep her options open, she needed to be able to lead a secure life by his side as much as she needed to get away.

“That first night…” she began slowly, “we agreed that we wouldn’t do anything if the other didn’t want it. You also asked me if I’d leave if I could.”

Loki looked up from their hands, still joined together. “You said you didn’t know.”

“I know now.” She paused. “I’d stay,” she said. It was a bitter lie and a bitter truth all at once. But it was the right thing to say and she knew it. Miranda only hoped that her eyes didn’t betray her.

They must not have because he kissed her. Slowly, and she saw it coming long before it happened. It left like he’d been waiting to kiss her again since that first night. A dying man desperate for water. Miranda’s stomach twisted — she was poison, slow acting but sweet. But, she thought as she kissed him back, wasn’t the reverse almost equally true?

*****

Miranda rolled over and reached out across the bed to find it empty. She opened her eyes and frowned at the empty sheets. They were cold.

“Early meeting,” Loki said.

Miranda rolled over to see him pull on his suit coat. He was sharply dressed, as always. Today was an emerald suit with a black shirt. She held the sheet to her chest as she sat up.

“How early is early?” she asked.

“Early enough that you can go back to sleep,” he replied. Loki rounded the bed to kiss her. “I shouldn’t be long.”

Miranda hummed, still groggy. “‘S that your way of saying you want me to stay naked in your bed?”

He chuckled. “I can’t say I would mind returning to find a beautiful woman in my bed.”

“Makes two of us,” Miranda mumbled as she flopped back down onto the mattress. She wasn’t awake enough to see Loki’s reaction, but she felt it. An idea to be squirreled away for later. She was out again before he closed the door behind him.

When she woke up later, he hadn’t returned. Miranda got up and pulled her clothes from the day before back on. She found a notepad and pen to leave a note. Miranda was sure he knew that she had classes to attend in the morning, but leaving a note was romantic. If he wanted romance, she’d give it to him.

She left the note on the pillow that smelled like her perfume.

Madame seemed less than pleased when Miranda strolled into class in the same clothes as the day before. Maybe it was that Miranda wasn’t ashamed of that, maybe it was her smirk, or maybe it was the fact that Madame knew she couldn't fucking touch her. Not when the king has chosen her as his main consort.

Miranda leaned back in her chair, smug.

“Someone got laid,” Maria whispered in her ear as she sat down in the chair to Miranda’s right. “Hope it was worth it.”

Miranda’s confidence evaporated. She glanced at Maria, who looked calmer than she sounded. Maria was angry. Miranda bristled.

“I can handle myself,” she whispered back.

Maria huffed.

Miranda decided to talk to her about it after their morning classes. They could slip away for a moment, find somewhere they wouldn’t be overheard…

Maria had other plans, it seemed. She hightailed it out of the room before Miranda could grab her. When Miranda got to the hallway, she was gone. Sure, Miranda could just use her powers to find her, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew Maria didn’t want to talk.

Instead, Miranda did something stupid.

After she changed into the planned outfit for the press even that afternoon (a simple navy office dress with a slim bronze accent belt around her waist), Miranda slipped into the stairwell and snuck into the kitchen. A few guards were stationed by the doors to keep an eye on everyone working in the kitchen. Miranda had prepared for it — at least, as much as she could, but she had a theory that she could use her powers to become invisible. Not literally, but to a few people. Make herself a blind spot, delete herself from their line of sight even if she stood right in front of them.

It seemed to work. She strode past them and found a prep station that someone had stepped away from in a quiet corner. Miranda picked up the knife and diced the sweet potatoes that had been left there. A few moments later, Karol leaned across the table and hissed at her:

“What in the everloving fuck are you doing?”

“I’m dicing sweet potatoes,” Miranda asked calmly. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“They’re fine, they’re getting mashed anyway. And you know that’s not what I mean.”

“I wanted to tell you that the Avengers are closing in. They’re close enough to attack the Ark if they wanted.” Miranda scraped the cubes of potato into the bowl waiting for them. “It worked.”

Karol inhaled sharply. “Really?”

Miranda nodded. “Loki told me himself.”

“I’d heard you were his favorite,” Karol said, “I didn’t realize —”

“I don’t think he did either,” Miranda said. She looked up at Karol. “Be careful when you share the good news.”

“Unlike you, I have a sense of self-preservation.”

“What’s life without a little excitement?” Miranda set the knife back down on the cutting board. “But I’ll get out of your hair. I’m accompanying him on some press thing.”

“Go,” Karol said. She smiled, then whispered to herself as she walked away, “It worked.”

Miranda turned and left herself. She walked out past the guards. Neither seemed to notice her, which meant she was right. She could be invisible.

Miranda took the elevator up to the penthouse. She leaned against the railing as it rose.

It came to a lurching halt, but the doors didn’t open.

Miranda pressed the “open doors” button. And again. And again. “What the hell…”

“I’m sorry, but the elevators have been turned off, per Mr. Stark’s instructions.”

Miranda froze. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She swore under her breath. “Does — who knows that the building is being locked down?”

“If you are asking about people inside the building, you are currently the only one who knows.”

“Keep it that way. Turn the elevator back on.” Miranda balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. With freedom finally so close, she couldn’t risk it slipping away. Which meant she had to play the odds: either she’d be free by dinner or she would have to sacrifice her freedom so that others could get theirs. And to do that, no one could know the Avengers were on their way.

“Ma’am —”

“Turn. It. Back. On.” Miranda clenched her jaw.

“Mr. Stark is on his way,” Jarvis said.

“That’s not — urgh!” Miranda slammed her fists into the doors. “Patch me through to Stark. I wanna talk to him.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, “J says you want to talk.”

“Mr. Stark?”

“The one and only,” he replied. In the background, Miranda could hear something that sounded like gunfire. “Make it quick, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“I need you to let me off this elevator.”

“Aren’t you safe?”

“Yes, but I’m also the only person that can distract Loki long enough for you to get to him.” Miranda’s patience was wearing thin. There was only so much time before Loki was informed about the skirmish that the Avengers were in the middle of, and by then, surely Hydra would notice that something was wrong with the building.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but he'd turn tail and run if it meant you’d be safe.”

Miranda said nothing.

“If you’re not there, he’ll fight. We need to get to him.”

“If I’m not there, you won’t have a double agent on the inside if he gets away.”

He sighed. “Look, I can’t just let a civilian —”

“Fucking hell, you’re a civilian! A suit of armor doesn’t change that,” Miranda snapped. “Look, I can handle myself. If you need a goddamn character reference you can talk to my uncle. He’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent: Phillip J. Coulson.”

“Coulson was your uncle?” Stark asked. The gunfire receded like he had flown up to get out of range.

“Do I need to give you his badge number?”

“No, no. I, uh, just didn’t know he had a family.” He paused. “J, allow her to get to him.”

“Understood, sir.”

The connection cut out as the elevator jerked and started upwards again. Miranda took a deep breath. If this was going to work, she had to pretend that nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened to her uncle. If Stark knew him, but he had never mentioned her, not once during all these months….

Miranda shook her head and squared her shoulders as the elevator came to a stop, this time on the floor that it was meant to. The doors opened and she stepped out. The clack of her heels resounded in her ears, far too loud against the silent stillness of the rest of the floor.

She knocked on his door as she opened it. Loki stood at his desk, the briefing packet for the press event scattered across the surface. His loose tie was looped around his neck. Miranda settled into the guise of the concerned girlfriend as she crossed the room to him. She took the tie off his neck and draped it around her own. She started to tie it for him.

“I suppose no one has told you what is happening this afternoon,” he said.

“Only that there will be cameras and that this is a statement about your power.”

“We’re visiting the Statue of Liberty.”

Miranda’s hands froze for a moment before they resumed their task. “Oh.”

“I’ve been given mixed advice on the matter. I would like to hear your opinion.”

“It’s going to make a lot of people angry. It won’t matter if they support you or not. It’s… It’s a very interesting statement.”

“What do you know about this statue? This file is useless,” he said and tossed the page he held onto the desk.

“I know it was a gift from the French, that the artist modeled the face after his mother, and that it’s copper but the seaspray makes it the iconic shade of green that it is. It’s a national icon, though there is a smaller version in Paris that was a gift to the French to thank them.”

“And why did the French give such a gift?”

Miranda took the tie off and slid it over his head. “To celebrate their friendship, abolition, and the ideals of democracy.” She tightened the tie and smoothed it. “On her book is a short poem. I don’t know all of it.”

“What do you remember?” He adjusted the tie.

“‘Give me your tired, your hungry, your poor; give me your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,’” she recited. “Like I said, it’s an interesting statement.”

Loki sighed. “You disprove.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what angle Hydra is trying to play.”

“They only decided on the location once I informed them that you would accompany me.”

“That just muddies the waters,” Miranda said. She stepped back. “But it’s too late to change it. Where are we supposed to go now?”

“To the helipad on the roof. We would take a car, but evidently the streets aren’t safe at the moment. The Avengers are attempting to reach the Ark.”

“Then shouldn’t we stay? Isn’t dangerous to leave?”

“It would be more dangerous to remain here,” Loki said. He guided her out of the room with a hand on the small of her back. “And it would be dangerous for a conflict here. There are too many innocents.”

Miranda said nothing. She didn’t know what to say — somehow the concept of Loki admitting that there were innocents was more than she could process. At the same time, she had to face the fact that if they left, if the Avengers regained control of the Ark, then she would miss her chance to get away. But if they were away, Hydra would be less pressed to maintain their hold on the Ark. Everyone would be safe. Hydra’s grip on New York was rapidly evaporating. If Loki and the council were away, it was better to preserve them than fight to hold territory that was already slipping away.

Territory could be rewon. Deaths couldn’t be undone.

Miranda squinted against the bright sunlight as they walked across the roof to the waiting helicopter. In the distance, Miranda saw something small fly up above the skyline and turn towards them with urgency. Her gut told her it was Stark. Jarvis must have told him that they were leaving.

Miranda climbed into the helicopter and let the co-pilot strap her in. She put the headset on and adjusted the microphone without focusing on what she was doing.

Did she want Stark to reach them in time? To end things here and now? Miranda didn’t want to admit to herself that the thought of rescue at the cost of Loki’s own freedom seemed like an unfair trade. But her freedom for that of everyone else trapped in the Ark? That was a price she could pay.

And one she would, she realized as they took off. Their route wouldn’t take them to the Statue of Liberty. Not really. Near the monument, yes, but not to it. There was a ship waiting to take them across the ocean. New York had long since been a lost cause in Hydra’s eyes.

The capital of the empire had moved. All they needed now was to move the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed! I've really enjoyed y'all's comments so far! It's really exciting to get to talk about my story with other people :)


	7. The New Nouveau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The base of power has moved out of New York -- but that's not the only shift. Miranda finds herself dislocated and surrounded by new mysteries while she adjusts to her new position in Loki's court.

The wind whirled around them as they stepped onto the deck of the ship. Miranda looked over the water towards the city. The skyline was different than she had imagined. She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her situation — she had wanted to leave New York for so long, and now that she was, she didn’t want to go.

The helicopter’s blades slowed to a stop as the crew ran around to secure it to the deck. There were a few other aircraft on the carrier, primarily jets. An aircraft carrier wouldn’t be Miranda’s first choice for a trans-Atlantic journey, but evidently, that was the plane. The council was already aboard. Rooms were prepared for all of them, Miranda included. Hydra had planned to leave; the Avengers’ attack was merely a wrench in their plans that meant they had to abandon resources and people in New York.

Miranda followed Loki into the craft. A crewman lead them through the tight metal passageways into a compartment that was the officer’s mess. At the moment, it was a conference room as the council had taken over the table. Miranda looked at the covers of the files that sat in front of each chair.  _ Operation West Wind. _ The relocation plans.

She watched New York disappear over the horizon through the porthole while Loki spoke with the council. She only half-listened. They were bound for France. Their palace would be ready when they arrived, and if anything went wrong, there was a quinjet on deck that would be used to evacuate any important persons, namely everyone in the room. Loki was furious that they had lost the Americas. New York had been their final hold out, a launching point. Now they had nothing.

Pierce argued that they still had their operatives that were imbedded within S.H.I.E.L.D. and working alongside the Avengers. A few of their men reported to Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff, even. They could take it down from the inside if Loki gave the word.

Miranda knew he wouldn’t. Loki had learned in the six months since he arrived that he didn’t want to be king, not like this. Not in constant conflict. He had hoped that things would calm down, that he would have opportunity to introduce the casual luxury that Asgard enjoyed. But things continued to go wrong.

The only thing that would save Earth from destruction was his rule. Someone he feared was on their way, and they would take what they wanted, no matter the cost. There was something on this planet that they wanted, and Loki had bargained for the safety of the planet in return for it.

Miranda looked at Loki’s cane. It leaned against the table. The illusion was powerful, but it couldn’t hide the energy that radiated off of it. It was the scepter. It was part of the bargain and its owner was coming to collect.

“Perhaps I have been too lenient,” Loki said. “I was under the impression that you could make use of all the resources at your disposal.”

“We have been,” Pierce said.

Miranda huffed. “I believe last time you said that I proved you wrong. Nothing’s changed since then. The Winter Soldier is still in stasis.” She swallowed around the bitter taste in her mouth. From Pierce’s memories, she knew what the Soldier looked like in stasis. How the ice crystals formed on his lashes and long hair. The deathly pale of his skin.

“The Winter Soldier is a highly-skilled assassin, not some common foot soldier.”

“Then why aren’t any of the Avengers dead? You have agents who work with them, you have an assassin with an incredible track record. It’s almost like you don’t want to kill them,” Miranda said. She pushed off the bulkhead and walked over to where everyone else stood. “Which makes sense if you want to expand the Winter Soldier program. Or Project Changeling.”

The other council members shifted. Once again, she knew things she shouldn’t. She knew things that some of them didn’t know, things that only a select few were given clearance to know. Miranda knew full well that all this would only serve to piss off Pierce, even if it was worth it in the moment. But this time, Miranda had the aching feeling that she’d put her foot in her mouth. Name-dropping Project Changeling hadn’t been wise: it was all the confirmation that Pierce needed. He knew she had powers, that they were strong. Telepathy was only the tip of the iceberg if the other Changelings were anything to go by.

“For the time being, I do have a posting for the Winter Soldier,” Loki said to break the tense silence. “He will act as Miss Douglas’ personal bodyguard.”

“That would be an underutilization of his skillset,” Pierce said.

“It would put him to use,” Loki said. “And in the event that we decide to call upon his skill set, he will be ready and awake. My decision is final.”

The councilmembers all glanced at each other before they slowly left. They had all heard the dismissal in Loki’s words. Miranda didn’t move; the dismissal wasn’t for her. It never was.

“Do I really need a bodyguard?” Miranda asked after the door had closed.

“It’s merely a precaution.”

“Or a distraction. Your real enemies aren’t the Avengers. You haven’t given a kill order because you need them to fight.” Miranda crossed her arms and sat on the edge of the table.

Loki sighed. “You have always been perceptive.”

“Could call it that. And before you ask, it’s related to how I can do magic, so per our agreement, I don’t have to explain it until I’m ready.”

“I want you to join the council,” Loki said. He met her eye.

“What?” Miranda blurted, startled. “I can’t do that, I’m not qualified.”

“You’ve just proven that you are.”

Miranda looked down at the deck. “I don’t want it to be public.”

“Then it won’t be,” he assured her. He tilted her chin up so they looked at each other in the eye again. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know,” Miranda said. “I just need time to think.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “You may take as much time as you need.”

*****

Miranda made up her mind before they reached France. It had taken her most of the week-long journey, but she had come to a decision: she’d do it. She’d join the council so long as it was never made public that she was a council member. Her only official “title” would be the king’s mistress. Now that she was the last companion she saw no point in beating around the bush any longer. That didn’t mean Loki had come to the same conclusion.

She stood near the door in Loki’s compartment, arms crossed. “It’s what I am,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I don’t see the point in avoiding it.”

“That title has negative connotations that I have no desire to attach to you.”

“They already are! Unless the whole ‘harem’ of companions thing was kept under wraps. You had four mistresses, and now I’m the last one.”

“You are the only one that the public is aware of.”

“How are you so sure? The others could have come forward by now. The whole world could know what you did to us.” Miranda huffed. “Why can’t you see that? The world will never see me as anything else.” She stared past him, out the porthole at the endless expanse of blue.

Tired of arguing, she peeked into his head to find out what his real issue was. The answer knocked the wind out of her: to call her his mistress, by default, implied that he was married to or would marry someone else. That was what he took issue with.

She looked at him. Both of them were tense, defensive. Miranda dropped her shoulders.

“Fine. We won’t call me that.”

Loki visibly relaxed. For the first time, Miranda realized that he only ever seemed relaxed when they were alone. If anyone else was around, the mask of the controlled king slid over him. He was closest to his true self when he was with her, but she never returned that trust. She couldn’t. Their situation made it impossible.

And if he intended to marry her, she would never have the chance to stop acting like the perfect companion. She would never again feel the cool grass beneath her bare feet or ride down a highway in the open bed of a truck or dance against a stranger to music that was so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. Gone were the days of spontaneous beach trips, of drinking around a bonfire, of late-night conversations about everything and nothing all at once.

She wasn’t sure she’d get them back anyway, but the realization was a gut-punch. She wondered if she would ever stop realizing what she’d lost or if there would be a new surprise every day. Today it was missing mismatched socks, tomorrow would be her mom’s perfume, the day after, the shit A/C in her off-campus apartment.

Miranda turned and left without a word. She needed to be alone for a while.

*****

Miranda stared up at the building from the marble courtyard. The gilded gates of Versailles that held the real world back were only a few yards away. Versailles. She should have known the moment they said they were bound for France that this was their destination. With Loki’s ego and flair for the dramatic, it was the only place that made sense.

“It’s certainly grander than our last place,” Miranda said as Loki approached.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist. “That would be an understatement.”

“And I suppose you don’t have time for a grand tour, do you?”

“I’m afraid not. The move has caused more difficulties than anticipated. The council is meeting within the hour.” He pulled her closer. “Your debut.”

Miranda hummed. “I suppose it is. I just didn’t expect it so soon.”

“I have complete faith in you,” Loki said, then he kissed her.

Miranda found herself returning the kiss. It was a comfort to know that he trusted her, adored her. But while it made him easier to manipulate, the gritty feel of guilt crawled up her throat and onto her tongue.  _ For the world _ , she reminded herself,  _ I’m doing this for the world _ .

*****

When Miranda had agreed to join the council, she hadn’t known quite what she had agreed to, but what she had imagined hadn’t prepared her for reality. Her seat was at the foot of the table. The second host’s seat. Which made her the second most powerful person in the room.

Miranda schooled her face into a neutral expression as she stood behind her chair. Loki made his way to the top of the table. The other council members waited patiently behind their own chairs. Once Loki sat down, the rest of them followed suit.

The conversation began immediately. Miranda followed as best she could while simultaneously skimming through the manila folder in front of her. Most of it went over her head. She had thought, foolishly, that she would have learned enough as a historian to muddle her way through government. Politics, economics, espionage — they were all out of her league. Yet she was in the middle of this maelstrom now without a lifeboat. She’d sent it away with the promise that she’d be able to provide information. Record the sinking ship.

Her head spun. The meeting was blessedly over (not that much had been decided, but Miranda had faith that bureaucracy would be Hydra’s undoing). Miranda retired to her rooms. Her limbs felt heavy and all she wanted to do was collapse onto the bed. At the last second, Miranda noticed a small box nestled amongst the pillows. She leaned back into the pillow-nest and opened it. Inside was a small earpiece. Small enough that, once in her ear, it would be difficult to see. Its counterpart, a tiny bauble that would rest just below her ear behind her jaw, was a microphone. On the inside of the box’s lid was a note:

_Don’t get stabbed._ _— T.S._

Miranda chuckled. She replaced the lid and tucked the box in the front of her shirt. After she closed her eyes for a moment, the real work would begin.

*****

To celebrate the winter holidays, and the move, there was a ball.

The room was hazy with incense smoke from the large bronzers scattered along the walls. Dozens of people lined the walls and watched as the most powerful couple in the world danced together in a blur of red and black. Holly boughs decorated the mantles above blazing fires that beat back the winter chill. A small holly wreath was pinned into Miranda’s hair; the green and white ribbons tickled the back of her neck as they danced. As the song continued, more couples stepped away from the edges to join the dance.

It was a shame, Miranda thought, that she was so used to the extravagance of it all. She could recognize the beauty of it, felt the awe bubble low in her chest and shine in her eyes, but it wasn’t the first ball she’d been to, wasn’t the first time she’d danced in the arms of a king, and the novelty of it all had long since worn off. Nonetheless, she flashed her most convincing smile at Loki and ribbed him about the amount of holly in the room.

“If you’re planning on committing murder, you’ve got plenty of options,” she said.

He shook his head fondly. “There is no merit in that legend.”

“So you say,” Miranda said. “But you say that about many things.”

“Do you think every story you’ve ever heard is true?”

Miranda grinned. “Only when I don’t know what else to believe. With you, I could believe anything.” She said it like a joke, or maybe a secret, and kept the truth buried. How could she know what to believe when fact and legend and myth were all swirling around in her head? Because in the end, it was the truth. She could believe anything about him because any of it could be true.

Miranda glanced at her new bodyguard as they spun past him.

“You seem tense,” Loki said.

“I’m not used to someone watching me so closely.” She looked at the Soldier again. His silvery eyes were sharp and darted around the room before landing on her. Even without a rifle scope, she felt his crosshairs center on her. “It’s unsettling.”

“It’s for your safety.”

“I know,” she said.

They paused to clap for the band as the song ended.

He pulled her close. “We have a team working to find out how the Avengers gained access to the Ark. They’ll find the culprit, my dear.”

_ That’s what I’m worried about _ , she thought.

“I know you’ll do everything in your power to protect what you’ve built.”

The band struck up another tune. Loki took her hand and she rested the other on his shoulder. This tune was slower than the first, but still lively enough to lift everyone’s spirits. Miranda plastered on a contented and adoring face while she let her mind wander. She’d gotten better at reading minds while doing other things (even though it made the headaches worse).

The Winter Soldier was her bodyguard and no doubt was supposed to stay by her side 24/7. Surely Hydra had given him their own set of orders; she just needed to find out what they were. So she sought him out.

His orb was a marbled green, orange, and olive. Arcs of electricity jumped across its surface. Miranda cautiously placed her hand on it and pushed down. A few arcs connected with her arm. She jerked each time but continued to push down. She had to find his center. But just like with Pierce, there were no happy memories to follow. The few memories she found were curled and charred like someone had set film on fire. She was afraid to touch them, lest they crumble to ash.

_ Oh, what have they done to you? _ she wondered. She looked out over the sea of his memories. So, so many of them were charred and crumbling. Others were blackened at the edges though the remainder was is sharp detail. Hardly anything had a rough date connected to it. The ones that did, didn’t make sense. They were too old to be first-hand.

Miranda blinked and came back to herself. She’d gone deeper than she expected. The Soldier had moved from the sidelines of the dance floor and stood next to Loki, as blank and unmoving as he had been since he arrived as he stared down at her.

“Miranda?” Loki said.

She looked up at him and furrowed her brow. Why was she on the floor? The music had stopped; when had that happened?

She took his hand. He pulled her back up to her feet.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I think I need to sit down,” she said. Her head spun and the light burned her eyes. She leaned on Loki’s arm for support and moved towards the doors to the connecting salon.

The Soldier followed. He stayed outside the door to the salon and would have blended in if it weren’t for the glint of his metal arm. Miranda stared at the sliver of his profile that she could see from the chair Loki helped her to.

The band struck back up.

Loki knelt next to the chair and held her hand.

Miranda had seen plenty of emotions cross Loki’s face in all their time together. Rage. Cunning. Lust. She had seen him fresh from a fight on one occasion with wounds that should have killed him, and even then, in tremendous pain, he had barely let it creep onto his face. But here, in this tiny, inconsequential moment, she saw the adoration and concern in his face plain as day.

“Are you all right?” he asked again.

She nodded. “I just got dizzy, all of a sudden.”

“You fainted.” He pushed to his feet. Loki walked over to the small bar cart in the corner and brought back a glass of orange juice.

Miranda accepted it gratefully and took a small sip. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” she said. “You’ll be missed.”

“As will you.”

“Go. The Soldier will keep an eye on me. If I faint again, I’ll be sure to send him running to inform you,” she joked.

Loki still seemed tense, though he grinned. After a moment’s pause, he kissed the back of her hand, then left.

Miranda sipped on the orange juice. Fainting unnerved her. Her abilities, her powers — whatever they were — had their side-effects, she knew that, but this felt different. Miranda had a gut feeling that fainting wasn’t a side-effect. It was something else. It was caused by someone.

Miranda clenched her jaw. If Pierce wanted to see what she could do, she’d show him.

*****

There was an adjustment period. From the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep, the Soldier was nearby. And even when she was asleep, he was only a few feet away, asleep on a cot. She couldn’t move around unnoticed anymore, but that didn’t mean she didn’t try.

Once, she slipped away for five minutes in the dark of night. She moved through the hidden passageways to the main council room. When the Soldier caught up to her, she didn’t even care, too shaken by the tabloid she had found. 

Bold white letters splashed across a candid of her next to Loki read  _ Who is Miranda Douglas? (p.1) _

A smaller picture to the right was of Loki and the Soldier leaning over her after she had collapsed.  _ Find Out Why She Fainted On Page 3! _

_ Why Douglas Got A Private Bodyguard (p.7) _ squished into the lower right corner.

Her stomach dropped. She wanted to throw up. Miranda threw the magazine back onto the table, heard the slick pages flip and slide. She had known that her name would be splashed across newspapers and magazines worldwide. It was inevitable. But to know and to see it for herself were two different things.

The Soldier stood off to the side, impassive as ever. For some reason, it infuriated Miranda. She picked up the magazine and hurled it at him. It hit his chest with a pathetic  _ thwap _ . He didn’t even flinch.

“Why don’t you ever  _ do  _ anything?” she hissed at him. “All you do is stand there! I don’t — I don’t even need you!” Her voice steadily grew louder. “I’m not in danger from anyone! I don’t have enemies! I don’t need to be monitored!” She strode over to him and jabbed her finger against his chest. “You’re just a glorified nanny, aren’t you?” she asked snidely. “You’re not here to protect me, you’re just here to make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Well, you can tell your CO that I’m not up to anything. I’m done trying to be something I’m not.” She picked up the magazine and stared at the cover. “I’m just some harlot,” she said and crumpled the magazine. She was only on the council because she slept with Loki. It wasn’t through her own merit.

“No.”

Miranda startled and looked up at him. His voice was rough from disuse. “Pardon?”

“You’re not —” he cleared his throat “— you’re not a harlot.”

“So you can speak,” she said. “I was beginning to think you were mute.” She didn’t want to focus on what he said, not right now, because if she did she would cry because that was the nicest thing anyone had said to her in  _ weeks _ .

“I’m not used to it.”

Miranda nodded. “I understand. And, I’m sorry. For throwing the magazine at you. I shouldn’t take my anger out on you.” She tucked her hair back behind her ear. “That was childish of me.”

“You’re my charge. You have permission to do whatever you wish.”

“What? Do — do people normally throw magazines at you?”

He thought about it for a moment. “No, not magazines.”

Miranda’s imagination ran wild as she envisioned all kinds of horrors, some pasted together from the ashes of his memory. Her heart ached for him.

She put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you don’t deserve to be beaten. For any reason.”

He didn’t believe her. She’d have to change that.

*****

During her free time the next day, between her lessons and council meetings, Miranda decided to meditate. She tucked herself into a chair and closed her eyes. She might not need to focus as hard to use her powers, but if she was going to blackout again when she explored the Soldier’s mind, she preferred to already be in a chair.

As she retreated into her void, the sounds around her faded away: the rustling of Madame’s papers, the soft footfalls of the Soldier as he paced, the scurry of activity just outside the door.

The arcs of electricity were still there, but barely. It didn’t hurt to dive into his mind. Everything  _ felt  _ different. There was an emotion attached to him now, but Miranda couldn’t quite place it. Cautiously, she began to explore. There were crystalline memories now, ones that weren’t burned and charred. It was only from the last two weeks however, and the first one made her shudder.

In the corner of the room was a pod, a cryo chamber. The Soldier had not been given a blanket but he didn’t shiver. He knew better. The men in the room talked amongst themselves like he wasn’t there. There were no words. He knew better than to listen in.

Miranda packed out of the memory, dizzy. She looked around and noticed a soft pulsing glow. As she got closer, she could make out the colors of the light: it was the same as the outside of the orb: olive, green, orange. Gently, she cupped her palms around it and picked it up. It felt like the realization that you've fallen in love with someone.

“Hey, little guy,” she said. She turned it over. Slowly, it perked up and shifted before it hovered over her hands. It tilted, almost like it cocked its head to the side to look at her. “I’m Andy, and I’m here to help.”

The small light righted itself and flew around in excited circles. Miranda giggled. The light flew behind her and she felt it nudge her back. She took a few steps forward, then the light darted out ahead of her. She followed.

It lead her to all kinds of memories: full ones, burnt ones, flashes, images. Some of it she could piece together, or at least try, but at the end of the day, they all felt random. A newspaper with a headline about the Stark Expo. A file in Russian with a photo paperclipped to it. Charcoal pencils left next to a sketchbook on a coffee table. Newspaper tucked into a pair of shoes. A brick apartment building. A blue helmet with a white ‘A’ on it.

Miranda paused. “Wait, I know this helmet.”

The light doubled back and buzzed around her.

“I can’t place it, but I know it. I’ve seen it before.”

The light bobbed again and began to race around her in circles. She got the hint and kept moving. The helmet wasn’t important at the moment. The light lead her to another memory, this one much older and barely intact. It hovered over her shoulder as she cautiously began to uncurl it. It crinkled and Miranda stopped.

“It’s gonna break,” she said.

The light slowly sank until it hovered by her ankle.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She wasn't sure why, but she meant it. Deeply. “We can try something else, or maybe some other time...”

The light came up and rested on her shoulder. She leaned her cheek against it. “We’ll keep working. I’m going to find out why these memories are like this and then I’m going to fix it,” she promised. “Do you have a name, little light?”

It moved in front of her face and bobbed like it was nodding.

Miranda held out her hand and as the light settled on her palm she heard it loud and clear, almost like someone had said it next to her ear:  _ Bucky _ .

“Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.” She smiled. “I should go. I’m starting to get a headache.”

Bucky dimmed, disappointed.

“I’ll be back,” she promised.

Miranda opened her eyes. The room was bright and she blinked until her eyes adjusted. She glanced at the clock: barely a minute had passed. Miranda closed her eyes again and focused on actual meditation this time. She had a lot to think about.


	8. Mysteries Abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is complex. Miranda thought she knew that but now she's not so sure. Blackmail, tragedy, and strange happenings throw Miranda for a loop, and she's desperate to find a place to land safely.

Miranda gave herself an extra two seconds in the bathroom. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her head felt fuzzy and her eyes felt heavy and all she wanted to do was disappear into the nest of blankets that was her bed. But she had to go back out to the party.

It was a smaller affair, just the council, and other higher-ups. Barely more than a formal dinner, really. Maybe that was why she hadn’t paid much attention to how much she drank. Maybe that was why she’d accepted her fourth, fifth, sixth glass of wine. It was port. She didn’t even like port that much.

Miranda pushed away from the sink and dried her hands. The Soldier waited dutifully outside for her. She squared her shoulders and strode back into the dragon’s maw.

In her absence, everyone had gotten up from the main table and drifted towards the bar for an after-dinner drink. A cup of coffee sounded great.

But then Pierce put himself in her path. Miranda glanced longingly at the coffee machine before she fixed him with a glare worthy of Medusa herself. At least that’s what she aimed for.

“A word, Miss Douglas?”

“Authoritarianism.” She moved to head towards the bar.

Pierce stuck out his arm. “Perhaps we could speak somewhere more privately. The terrace, perhaps? It’s a matter concerning your personal security, after all.”

“Then perhaps you should consult with my personal security, Mr. Pierce.” She gestured to the Soldier. “It is his job now, after all.”

“I believe you’d be interested to know yourself.”

“Then just tell me.” Miranda flexed her fingers. The coffee was so close but so far away.

“We’ve discovered the identities of the people involved in the security breach in New York. One of them was a good friend of yours.”

Miranda hummed. “I’m sure his majesty the king will be delighted to hear that you’ve done something useful for once, but I don’t see why this should interest me.”

“Because three women relayed information to Tony Stark with the aid of his A.I. There’s only audio, but one of them knew about the Winter Soldier. Any idea who that could be?”

Miranda blinked. The room blurred and spun.

Pierce lowered his voice and leaned in. “We’ll be speaking again, Miss Douglas.” He waved to someone else, then left to speak with them.

Miranda braced herself on the back of a nearby chair. She looked at the Soldier and wondered how Pierce would order him to kill her. How Loki would order him to kill her. No, no that was silly — they wouldn’t order the Soldier to kill her. His job was to protect her. But if Loki found out, she was dead. Worse than dead, perhaps. There was a chance that she was too special to kill.

She’d have to gain Loki’s confidence to the point where the very  _ idea  _ of her betrayal was ludicrous. And she’d have to destroy that audio. Then it would be her word against Pierce’s, and that was a battle she knew she could win. And one she had to if she wanted to keep spying for the Avengers.

*****

“Meditation” became part of Miranda’s routine. Sometimes she explored the Soldier’s mind with Bucky’s help, other times she tried to find someone with access to the audio file. She wasn’t sure what she would do once she found someone who did. Miranda supposed she’d figure it out when she got there.

Today though, she didn’t want to dig around in Hydra minds and everyone was worried about the next big press dinner anyway. Nothing useful to her. So today she was with Bucky. Their mission: uncover who the Winter Soldier is.

Bucky had lead her to dozens of memories, most of which didn’t make much sense to her. She collected them anyway, building a compendium in her own memory. Bucky lead her through half-a-dozen or so memories about a red-haired woman. Her face was always obscured, but she found a name: Natalia. And then there was the faceless blond man who was two completely different sizes: one small and bony, the other tall and muscular.

Miranda ran her hand through her hair and tossed aside another half-memory. Bucky had lead her to a section full of memories about a spare key hidden under a brick but none of the ones she had looked at was the right one. Most of them were images or moments. One even went on long enough for Miranda to see the key turn in the lock, but they were all dead ends. She wished she knew what Bucky meant for her to find.

“I don’t think this is helpful, Bucky,” she said. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to find.”

It pushed another memory over to her.

Her shoulders sank. “Last one. If I stay too long I get a killer migraine.”

Bucky bobbed, which she had come to learn was either a nod or jump-for-joy. She held the edge of the memory and dove in.

The wood stairs shifted under the weight of the two men walking up them.

“We looked for you, after. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery.”

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just… I kind of wanted to be alone.”

Miranda scrambled up the steps so that she could get ahead of them. The blond was short in this memory and his hair flopped against his forehead. But Miranda was more concerned about the brick.  _ This _ had to be the memory that Bucky had wanted her to find.

And there it was, next to one of the posts for the railing. She stood next to it to watch the memory play out.

“How was it?”

Miranda’s breath caught. The other man was the Soldier, but he was so much younger. His hair was shorter and slicked back. Clean-shaven. Miranda couldn’t believe how different he looked. His eyes weren’t haunted by anything other than acute grief.

“Was okay. She’s next to Dad.”

“I was gonna ask —”

“I know what you’re gonna say, Buck. I just —”

Miranda froze the memory. Buck.  _ Bucky _ . She stepped out of the memory and stared at the Bucky-light.

“Bucky, you’re…” She wet her lips. “The Winter Soldier’s name is Bucky.”

Bucky bobbed up and down. She was pretty sure it spun around.

Miranda stood there, mouth agape. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. “If the Winter Soldier is Bucky, and you’re…” She frowned. “I don’t get it. No one else — or at least nobody that I’ve met — has a little orb like you. A miniature version of themselves in their head.”

Bucky — the small light — was the same color as the bigger orb. The same emotion, that sudden realization of love, surrounded both, though it was barely there with the bigger orb. The Soldier was impassive, stoic. Bucky was emotive, vibrant.

Miranda thought about her interactions with the Soldier. It had always seemed like something with missing; like his personality had been deleted.

“Oh,” she said and stared at the Bucky-light. “When they... wiped him — you — it… it splintered your mind. Your personality broke off, the you that’s  _ you  _ retreated. To save yourself from all the horrible things…” Flashes of his memories flitted across her own mind. The torture, the conditioning, the missions. She swayed on her feet. “I need to go process this.”

The Bucky-light dimmed but bobbed. Gently, she stroked it and promised she’d be back. She’d always come back.

*****

Miranda sat patiently in the chair as her style team fussed over her. For the moment, the magazine in her lap lay forgotten as Marion skillfully applied eyeliner. A stripe of black, a flash of gold. Olivier pulled her dress out of the bag and the crinkling plastic drowned out the conversation for a moment.

“Her hair curls beautifully,” Salomé said. “I hope they let me curl it often.”

“It makes her look more like a doll,” Olivier said. He brushed an imaginary piece of fuzz off the dress and checked that the appliques were all attached properly.

“Are you saying I paint her like a doll?” Marion said, indignant. She picked up two different shades of red lipstick and held them up to the light. “I think she looks radiant.”

Miranda turned back to the magazine. Before she faced the press, she wanted to know what people were saying about her, and her team always spoke like she wasn’t there. This was only the third time she’d met them, sure, but she had a feeling the pattern would continue. Maybe that’s just how style teams worked. She wouldn’t know. Their chatter faded into the background as she focused on the article.

_ Her presence has everyone asking: who is Miranda Douglas? Well, I’ve started to put it all together. Douglas is a private individual and it is unclear if anyone could ever get an interview with her, but I’ve discovered a few facts about her that hopefully will help sate our readers’ curiosity. _

“Do you think she knows?” Salomé asked. She coated another curl with hairspray.

_ Born April 23, 1992, Douglas is a Taurus. She hails from Gladstone, Mich., a charming town on the north side of Lake Michigan. Before the Battle of Manhattan, she attended the University of Minnesota, Twin Cities, where she studied History. Her friends and family were not available for comment, but I did interview her former advisor. _

“Knows what?” Marion said. She settled on the bolder of the two shades.

“That we’re talking about her.”

“They told us she doesn’t speak French,” Olivier said, “but she’s smart. She might.”

Miranda frowned, then relaxed when Marion tapped her chin. Olivier was right, she didn’t speak French. And yet…

“Well, at least we’re not saying anything rude,” Salomé said. She set the hairspray aside and fluffed Miranda’s curls. “We’re not going to lose our heads.”

Miranda closed the magazine and turned her attention to their words. Not what they said, but how it  _ sounded _ . She couldn’t imagine that she’d learned French on accident, though stranger things had happened.

By the time she was in her dress, she thought she had a handle on it. The words felt strange in her mouth, but she gave it a shot. “Thank you for your help,” she said.

Olivier stopped fussing with her train, frozen. Marion’s eyes widened, the earrings in her hands temporarily forgotten. Salomé turned red and looked away.

Miranda nodded. “I’m guessing I said that right?” She didn’t need to see them nod and turned to the mirror. She smoothed the black fabric down. The deep Vs in front and back showed off her smooth skin (with plenty of makeup hiding the parts that weren’t) and the gold appliques accented her hips and shoulders. It was seductive, but she kind of liked it. “You’ve all done a wonderful job,” she said. She took the gold drop earrings from Marion and put them in her ears. She discreetly checked the placement of her com; she wasn’t sure if anyone was listening to it, but had faith that it was recording or transmitting or something. Why else would the Avengers have made sure it got to her?

“And you have a wonderful eye. All of you.” Miranda pushed her hair back from her face and ruffled it. It had been so long since she’d left her hair down. When she was responsible for her image, she’d always put it up. It had seemed fancier that way.

“Here’s your necklace, ma’am,” Marion said and handed her a black choker.

“Thank you.” Miranda smiled and took it. She pulled her hair over her shoulder so she could clasp it. “I should apologize. I… I didn’t know I could understand.”

“You didn’t know?” Salomé asked. Her brow furrowed. “How do you not.... know?”

“If I knew how that worked, I’d know how I know French,” Miranda said. She turned away from the mirror and grinned at them. “So, just shoes left, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, the shoes,” Olivier said. He scrambled to get them out of the box. Matte black pumps, her default. Six inches, to eat up some of the height gap between her and Loki.

She didn’t wobble anymore. Hadn’t for ages. She tugged the cuffs of her sleeves to straighten them. 

There was a knock at the door, and after a brief pause, it opened. Madame swept in, clipboard in hand. Miranda rolled her eyes and rattled off the names of all the important officers and dignitaries and their spouses before Madame could even ask.

Madame clicked her tongue. “Well, you’ve certainly done your homework.” She marked something off on her clipboard.

“Why are you so surprised, Madame? Haven’t I always been your best student?”

Madame pursed her lips. Miranda may have caused the most trouble, but she had always been a quick learner, always had that edge. Even Madame couldn’t deny it.

“I assume it’s time?” Miranda said.

“Yes,” Madame said curtly. She turned on her heel and Miranda followed a few steps behind her. Once they were in the hall, the Winter Soldier — Bucky, she reminded herself — peeled off the wall to walk next to Miranda.

Without thinking, Miranda rested her left hand on his arm and picked up her skirt with her right. It made it easier to walk, to be sure, but it wasn’t until she noticed Loki standing down the hall up ahead of them that she was aware she’d done it. She took her hand back, embarrassed even though he was facing away from them. Miranda couldn’t make out the conversation, but Baron Von Strucker looked nervous.

Loki turned around and his ire evaporated the moment he laid eyes on her. He held out his hand as she approached. “Radiant as ever, my lady,” he said as she placed her hand in his.

“Always the gentleman,” she said. She smiled as he kissed the back of her hand.

“I’ve missed you these past weeks.” He tucked her arm against his.

“And I you,” she said. They turned towards the doors to wait for their entrance cue.

“Then perhaps you’ll consider retiring with me after this is over.”

“Perhaps I will,” Miranda said.

The doors opened and they strode into the hall, the most powerful couple in all the world. Or, at least, that’s the image that everyone with an audio recorder or camera in their hands was told to build. It was all propaganda in the end. Did it matter if it was for or against them?

Miranda stayed by Loki’s side the entire night and whispered people’s names into his ear as they approached. While they were speaking with the Japanese ambassador and his wife, she realized that neither of their handlers had approached all night. She glanced over her shoulder, almost surprised to see Madame and Smith a few feet away. Miranda looked around the room and realized that she knew the name of everyone in the room, including the staff. Either they had been introduced to her or she to them at some point in the last six months. She knew for a fact that, at twenty, she was the youngest person in the room. Everyone held them in high regard, she thought, and the fact that she phrased it like that told her more about how she’d changed than she cared to know. She was a socialite now, proud and prepared for events like these. The perfect match to their king.

_ Would the proposal be Loki’s idea or the council’s?  _ she wondered.

Miranda turned back to the conversation and laughed politely at the ambassador’s joke. Six months was too short, after all. Wasn’t it?  _ Wasn’t it? _

*****

The moonlight trickled in through the clouds. Most of the gardens were obscured in shadow, but Miranda didn’t care. If she stared at the canopy above Loki’s bed for one more second, she thought she would go crazy. Unfortunately, the change of scenery didn’t help.

There was too much on her mind. Pierce’s thinly veiled threat hung over her like a knife. Was it wiser to say nothing or to tell Loki herself? To convince him she would never or frame it to seem like a plot against her? She hadn’t found anyone in the palace with knowledge of the file — let alone access to it — besides Pierce and she wasn’t sure what he planned to do with it. It would be the end of her though. The end of the relationship she’d built, which, on some level, she found funny. It always seemed like it was on the verge of collapse.

And then there was Bucky. She didn’t know what to do about him either. If she was right and his personality had “popped out” of where it was supposed to be, she had an obligation to restore it, right? Or perhaps she shouldn’t do anything because, after all, she shouldn’t have been looking in the first place, she should have just talked to him like a normal human being instead of snoop around in his mind.

She adjusted her robe to cover more of her skin. The single-pane windows did nothing to keep out the winter chill. Miranda felt the draft brush over her skin. She shivered.

Loki shifted in the bed. Miranda listened as he slid out from between the covers and padded over to her. His footsteps were loud in the otherwise silent room. She didn’t move, not even when he wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Come back to bed.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

“Perhaps I can help you as you have helped me in the past.”

Miranda rolled her lips and sighed. “Go rest. You need it.”

“So do you,” he said. Loki gently tugged her towards the bed. She didn’t budge but she turned. “Miranda, either try to sleep or let me help you.”

She sighed, then nodded. She followed him to the bed and laid back down. They faced each other. The shadows made his sharp features look even sharper, but she was past fear. She knew what he was capable of, both good and bad, kind and cruel. Miranda wanted to hate him, to bring back the rage she had felt in her solitary cell full force and turn it on him, discover the full extent of her powers. But she was smarter than that. She had always planned for the long game in this, no matter the cost. She just hadn’t known how high it would be.

“Come back to me,” Loki said and rubbed at the crease between her brows. “You seem more distant now than when you stood by the window.”

Miranda chuckled and relaxed. “It’s difficult to quiet my mind,” she said. She snuggled closer to him. She had a feeling he needed the comfort as much as she did. “This helps.”

“And I am happy to help,” he said. He kissed her forehead.

Slowly, they drifted off to sleep.


	9. All's Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda gains a few unlikely allies that help her make the most of her situation. As her responsibilities expand, Miranda begins to create failsafes in case something goes wrong. She hopes she never has to use them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Here's this week's chapter. Thanks for reading!

Even though it was cold and the gardens were half-frozen, Miranda loved to go for walks through them. She loved it for two reasons: one, it got her outside and there was more space than the little landing strip at the Ark; two, she could observe the security around the building. She walked on the edges of fountains and on railings whenever possible, to make it seem like she was more interested in goofing off than anything else. The Soldier (because it was still easier to think of him that way) tensed the slightest amount when she did. As if that was the biggest threat to her security.

Miranda sat on a railing and swung her feet up. The Soldier’s shoulders tightened so slightly that she would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it. She smirked and carefully pushed to her feet. The Soldier walked alongside her on the ground.

She wondered, distantly, if he knew that this was what helped her focus. Sometimes when she did this she debated whether or not she should tell him about Pierce’s threat. Sometimes she tried to solve the puzzle that was Bucky — which was her focus for the moment.

He had been a sergeant in the army before he was the Soldier. The Bucky-light had shown her a set of dog tags for one ‘James B. Barnes,’ which meant ‘Bucky’ was a nickname. Somehow Captain America was a piece of the puzzle that is the Soldier.

So who was Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes?

Oh.  _ Oh _ .  _ Best friends since childhood —  _

Miranda lost her balance. As she wobbled, he reached out to catch her. Miranda righted herself and laughed it off. She kept walking along the railing until it ended, then hopped down and strode down the steps to the next section of the garden. Her free time was nearly over so of course she would have a groundbreaking realization now and not twenty minutes ago when she would have had enough time to wrap her head around it.

But the Soldier had always been sharp and he knew her tells by now as well as she knew his. When he caught up to her to walk on her left, it was clear he knew she’d realized something important.

“I’ve figured out who you are,” she said. “Or who you  _ were _ . Before the Soldier.” Miranda stopped and turned to look him in the eye. She didn’t know what to say next. “Who do you report to?”

“You, ma’am.”

“And only me?”

He glanced around, skittish. “From now on, yes.”

Miranda forced down a grin. Finally, she had a co-conspirator. “Good,” she said. “Your name is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, and you were Captain Steve Rogers’ best friend. You were heroes.  _ Are  _ heroes.” She paused, then added softly, “My heroes.”

He said nothing but she couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in. She knew how much he remembered (or, at least, was capable of remembering). She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

*****

Miranda swirled the last dregs of the red wine around in her glass. Outside, the rain pounded against the window. She downed the wine and stared into the fire. It would be a peaceful evening if Loki weren’t ranting about the incompetence of his council. The Avengers had nearly taken back all of the Americas and now turned their eye towards Europe. Intelligence suggested that they would come straight for Versailles once they had the manpower.

“They want to cancel our tour,” Loki said. He finally stopped pacing and stared into the fire as well.

Miranda sighed. She was sick of hearing about the damn tour. It was meant to be an attempt to improve the image of the monarchy. Make them seem as reasonable and invested as any other monarch. Except she wasn’t a monarch or married to one (which was an issue that was growing closer and closer to being on the list of ‘problems to solve’) so she didn’t really see why she needed to be part of the picture. She was his lover, his confidant. A secret member of the council, granted, but that’s not the role that mattered.

“Might I offer a suggestion?” she said. She set the glass down on the table. He waved for her to continue. “You need ambassadors or representatives of your own. People you trust to speak for you. Then  _ you  _ wouldn’t have to worry about tours or diplomatic missions, or the security risks. Someone else would deal with it.”

Loki shook his head. “The one person I trust is not ready for the responsibility.”

“Have you even asked them?” Miranda walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and kissed his shoulder before leaning her head against the same spot. “They might be more prepared than you think. I thought I was unprepared to join your council, but it turns out I can keep afloat.” Miranda pulled herself away and grabbed another log for the fire. “Tell me about them.” She grabbed the iron and prodded the fire to make space for the new log.

“They’re perceptive. An excellent conversationalist.”

Miranda hummed and placed the log on the fire. “Good qualities for an ambassador. But what makes you hesitate?” She brushed her hands off on her pants.

“They’re young, inexperienced in politics. It would be too much to throw on them.” He sighed. “If I appointed them now, it would be seen as more evidence that I am unfit to be king.”

Miranda stared. She knew people thought Loki made a poor king but to hear him say it… that opinion must be more pervasive than she’d thought.

“Then give them a position that gives them diplomatic experience,” she said. “Something small, perhaps, to see if they’re even capable.”

Loki smiled at her. “How did I get so lucky?” He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. Miranda grinned into the kiss. “I never thought I would find someone like you.”

“Well, did you ever consider that I would be on Midgard?”

“How foolish of me,” he said. He kissed her again, deeper than before. Miranda didn’t have to read his mind to know how their night would end.

*****

It was unseasonably warm and for once, not raining. Miranda had thought the rain would never end, but today the sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She turned away from the open window. Her blossom pink dressing gown fluttered behind her as she walked over to pick out her outfit.

The door opened. The Soldier stepped in and closed it behind him. Miranda looked up at him. He seemed… nervous. His shoulders were tight, his gaze downcast. She put the blouse back on the rack.

“You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah, uh,” he said. He looked at her and immediately looked away.

Miranda tied her robe shut as she walked over to him. “Are you sure?” She leaned into his line of sight and raised an eyebrow. “‘Cause I’m not.”

He met her eyes. Miranda blinked. There was something in them. She was so used to his blank, empty stare that seeing something in them — focus, emotion — was jarring. For the first time, Miranda understood why women had fallen all over him. His eyes drew her in. He was magnetic.

“Oh, I see,” she said. “Someone’s remembered who he is.” She grinned.

“Yes,” he said. He fell into parade rest. “Thanks to your help. Though things are still… jumbled.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. You have a lot to remember.” She took a deep breath to get her thoughts in line. “And a lot to learn.”

“Ma’am?”

“Well, I don’t think Hydra was invested in your education, do you?” She strode back to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit. “Luckily, I was a history major. I can help you learn about that, at least. The important parts.” She stepped behind the changing screen. “What do you want me to call you?”

“I don’t know.”

Miranda shed her dressing gown. “Well, in public we should address each other as we always have. I’d hate to think of what Pierce would do if he found out I broke his most powerful weapon,” she said with a wink. She slipped out of her nightgown. “But in private… in private you may call me Andy. May I call you Bucky?” She got dressed while the silence stretched on. She tucked her shirt into her pants and cinched the belt.

“Yes,” he said.

Miranda stepped around the dressing screen. She smiled. “Then it’s nice to finally be introduced,” she said and stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

“And you, Andy,” he said, though he sounded stiff as ever. He took her hand and they shook, the first normal introduction they’d had in ages.

Miranda noticed, for the first time, that he was only a little bit taller than her, maybe half a head. And his eyes, the color of them seemed different somehow, not that they had actually changed color. They were grey, always had been, but now…

Miranda looked away and cleared her throat. “Let’s go for a walk. The walls have ears here.” She slipped into a pair of sneakers and grabbed one of her many coats, a fashionably cut trench coat, and draped it over her arm. “We don’t have much time this morning because I have to meet with the council, but we can start anyway. Come.” She strode out of her room and through the halls.

They didn’t say anything until they almost to the far side of the gardens. The gravel crunched under their feet and Miranda focused on the sound as she figured out where to start.

“How much do you remember?” she asked.

“Bits and pieces.” He stared out ahead of them. “I remember you being gentle with my memories.”

“So you know about that.” Miranda ducked her head and looked away. The sun sparkled in the reflecting pools. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You helped.”

“I invaded your privacy,” she said. She stared at him. “Multiple times.” She stopped and grabbed his arm. “I’m thrilled that it helped —”

“I forgive you,” Bucky said. “Can we move on?”

“Fine.” She ground her teeth.

“What did you really want to talk about?”

Miranda started to walk along the path again. She heard him follow, and after a beat, she told him about her plan: how she needed to find the audio file and destroy it. “It’s either that or I figure out how to discredit Pierce. If Loki thinks that it’s really me for even a second —” She chewed her lip. “I can’t try again. I terrified I’m gonna die here.” Miranda turned and strode back towards the palace. “I should ask Loki for books.”

Bucky frowned. “What?”

“History books,” she said, “so I can properly teach you.”

“And you think that he’ll just give you books?” Bucky said as he scrambled to catch up.

“Have some faith, Bucky, have some faith. I’ve been sleeping with him for like eight months and the only other thing I’ve ever asked for just lead to us spending more time together, so… I’ll just ask nicely,” she said.

“Since my mission is still to maintain your personal safety, I’d advise against it,” Bucky said.

“Noted, but I’m going to ask anyway. Would it be better to go to a library? I think it’d be better to go to a library.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands.

“We’re in France. And you’re deflecting.”

“Trip to London then. We could go to a museum — that’s even better!” She hurried up the steps.

“That creates even more security risks, Andy. I’d advise against that  _ even more _ .” Bucky rushed ahead of her and blocked her path.

She glared at him. “Trust me, it’ll be fine.” She pushed passed him. “Now, come on, I can’t be late for the council meeting.” Miranda marched through the halls to the council room. Before she went through the doors, she yanked off her coat and thrust it at Bucky. He draped it over his arm and stood up against the wall next to the door. She nodded sharply at the attendant, who then opened the door.

The conversation died when the doors opened. Chairs scraped against the floor as the council rose. Miranda stood at the end of the table, her hands clasped in front of her. After a moment, she and the rest of the council sat down. At the other end of the table, Loki lounged in his seat, a cunning and proud grin on his face.

“At your suggestion, my lady, and with the rest of the council’s approval, I have devised a task to test my candidate for my ambassador.”

“Wonderful news, your majesty. I’m happy to hear my advice was useful.”

“Which is precisely why you will meet with the prince of Wakanda aboard the  _ Liberté _ in the Atlantic to negotiate a treaty.”

Miranda paled. “Your majesty?” She looked to the council, sure that it was a joke. From the disgruntled looks on their faces, it wasn’t. “I… I’m honored,” she said.

Loki got up and walked around the table to embrace her. “You have my full confidence.”

Miranda smiled, still unsure that this was really happening. As she hugged him, she whispered in his ear, “You promised my position would be secret.”

She stepped back first. Miranda turned and held the back of her chair. She remained standing until Loki sat. She refused to meet his eye for the remainder of the meeting and took detailed notes during the meeting. Once it was over, they all rose and waited for Loki to leave before any of them dared move.

“I hope the king’s trust isn’t misplaced, Ambassador Douglas,” Pierce said.

“I’ve done more to earn his trust than you,” she shot back.

“And it would do you well to remember Hydra put you in his path,” said Mr. Carmichael, the minister of justice. He buttoned his suit jacket. “Without us, you would be nothing.”

Miranda clenched her jaw. If her options were this or nothing, she’d take nothing every time. She didn’t want any of this. But like hell would she waste this opportunity.

Miranda waited for the council to file out of the room. Then she gathered herself and went out into the hall. She didn’t pause until she was in her room. Bucky was right behind her the whole time. Once the door closed behind them, he stood at parade rest and watched her. Miranda chewed on her thumb while she paced. Her mind raced and her heart pounded in her chest. After several long minutes, she turned to Bucky and, at her wit's end, told him everything that had happened in the council meeting. When she finished, she sat down hard on the chaise lounge and buried her face in her hands.

“I should coordinate with the security team for the trip,” Bucky said.

Miranda nodded. “Go ahead. I just… need to let this sink in, I think.” She bit her tongue.

“At least we know he trusts you.”

“More than I ever imagined,” Miranda said. She flopped over and stared at the ceiling. A beat later, she dismissed Bucky to go learn about the security measures for the trip. Sometime after he left, her formal briefing packet was brought to her. Miranda spent the rest of the day pouring over it. She didn’t want to miss a single detail.

The sun had retreated below the tree line when Bucky returned. Miranda barely glanced up from the paper she was reading when the door opened. She frowned. She’d been reading the same paragraph for a while now, but she couldn’t focus on the words. They wouldn’t stay pinned to the page. She set the paper down and rubbed her eyes.

Bucky stood in front of her desk. She gestured for him to sit even though they both knew he wouldn’t. If they relaxed too much in private, it was only a matter of time before that ease spilled into their public lives. They couldn’t afford the risk.

“The arrangements for your mission had been made,” he said.

“Thank you.” Miranda leaned back in her chair, exhausted. “According to this, we leave in three days.”

“Correct. It will take most of the day to travel to the  _ Liberté _ and you are scheduled to arrive two days before Prince T’Challa and his entourage.”

“That doesn’t give us a lot of time.”

Bucky dropped his professional tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that this would be a perfect time for Pierce to —”

“Andy,” he said firmly. “If he did that now, anyone would think it’s forged. You just got promoted. You have an official title and job that’s just as important as his. He’s smarter than that.”

Miranda sighed. “I hope you’re right.” She picked up the paper and stared at it for a moment before she set it back down. She looked out the window at the darkening sky. She missed the good old days when the most daunting thing in her future was her student loan repayment plan.

*****

The wind whipped around them as they stepped out onto the deck of the ship. The blue water sparkled in the sunlight and a few birds lazily floated on the small waves. The engines from the Wakandan plane gradually quieted as they approached. Miranda looked over the aircraft, surprised that it resembled a quinjet. She had a suspicion that Wakanda was not the simple agrarian nation everyone had been lead to believe.

She waited patiently for the envoy to disembark. Miranda counted ten people on the plane. From what she could tell, they lined up with the manifest that had been sent ahead so she knew their names. It didn’t help her nerves as much as she hoped it would.

Finally, the ramp lowered. Miranda squared her shoulders and walked forward. The ship’s captain was behind and to her left, Bucky to her right. Behind them were other senior crew members. She had no staff, no secretary, of her own. No one to turn to when she didn’t know something. Miranda prayed she knew everything she needed to.

“Your highness,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest, “welcome aboard the  _ Liberté _ .”

“Thank you, ambassador,” T’Challa said.

Miranda then introduced the captain and first mate. She introduced Bucky as her chief security officer. T’Challa introduced the important members of his team in turn. The group made their way inside the ship. The captain personally gave the prince a tour of the ship. Miranda tagged along for appearance’s sake. After the tour came a semi-formal dinner in the officer’s mess. Nothing pertaining to the treaty was discussed or brought up. That was tomorrow’s focus. For the time being, all Miranda had to do was be a good hostess.

When they retired for the evening, Miranda flopped onto her bunk. Her quarters were small and cramped like everything else on the  _ Liberté _ . The bed was stiff and uncomfortable. Miranda didn’t care. She’d survived her first evening as hostess and ambassador. Only three more to go.

*****

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Papers were strewn all over the table in front of them as they worked out the best wording for their agreement. Neither of them wanted a conflict, but Miranda confessed that she had limits to what she could agree to. She was Loki’s mouthpiece, but she didn’t have much control over what she said, ultimately. The terms that they’d agreed on, however, were the best compromise they could come to under the circumstances.

Loki would not attack Wakanda so long as Wakanda did not attack his forces or aid his enemies. That had been easy enough to write up. Their current struggle was over the phrasing of a proviso that they had both agreed to, one that protected Miranda more than anything Loki could do for her. If Hydra, or any of their associates, made an attempt to capture, arrest, or execute Miranda for treason, Wakanda would be released from its half of the treaty. Her security meant Hydra’s security.

Miranda had been terrified to propose the measure, but when T’Challa had asked about her tattoo the day before, the floodgates opened. She knew she could trust him, prayed that he trusted her, and together they worked to create a safety net.

“Are you sure you do not want this to apply to Loki as well?” T’Challa asked.

“I’m sure,” Miranda said. “Everyone who works for him is Hydra or a de facto associate of theirs. He can’t order my arrest without them.” She paused. “And I doubt he would execute me himself.”

“No, that does not seem likely.”

It took four hours to hide it in the legal jargon of the rest of the treaty. Hopefully, it was hidden enough that the council would not see it and veto the entire document. She needed it in place if the second half of their plan was to succeed. If the treaty was accepted, then she could move into phase two of her plan with the assurance that, even in the event of her death, her work over the coming months would benefit the planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we having fun yet?  
> I'd love to hear your thoughts and predictions!


	10. Don't Let Him In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Miranda adjusts to her new role as ambassador, she begins to realize that there are larger powers at play and decides to be prepared for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm almost done writing chapters for this and then I can binge-update!

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds. Miranda shifted and leaned out of the ray that shined directly into her eyes, though quickly realized that it was a futile effort. The sun would blind her for as long as it wanted. She just hoped it wouldn’t last the entire council meeting.

“Then perhaps we should turn our focus to the arts,” Loki said. “I’ve always been fond of them, and the ambassador assures me that many Midgardian rulers are remembered for their patronage of the arts.” He gestured down the table to Miranda when he mentioned her.

“And infrastructure,” she added.

Pierce scoffed. “We don’t need to do that. The territories can handle that themselves.”

“And yet they’re not,” Miranda said as she pulled a report out of her folder. “In fact, multiple cities have requested funding to repair damages from the Chautari attacks in the last year.” She slid the thick report down the table. It came to a stop just in front of Pierce. “I’ve done some research in preparation for my upcoming tour. I thought I should know what condition our territories are in before we flaunt wealth they don’t have.” Miranda had requested several reports after the treaty with Wakanda had been approved (a motion that passed without contest, by some miracle). To her, there was a fine line between unqualified and unprepared; so she took every opportunity she could to prepare herself. And it had nothing to do with her recent habit of avoiding Loki.

Pierce flipped through the report. His expression grew more stoic as he looked through it but Miranda could feel frustration roll off him in waves. “And where would we find the money for this?”

“Local taxes, of course,” said Laura Schribe.

“Partly,” Miranda said. “I’ve also taken the liberty of looking into several budgets, and I think we can scale back our espionage efforts in the Americas. They aren’t producing results and even if we only scale it back by half, we would gain roughly 500 million U.S. dollars that we could use to fund infrastructure and the arts.” She paused for effect. “Not that I mean to tell any of you how to do your jobs, I just think that it would be beneficial to the monarchy’s image if I brought good news with me instead of empty promises.”

Miranda sat back, smug, as the ministers bickered amongst themselves over her proposed measures. Council meetings were like this more often than not. They were all intelligent, informed. But Miranda brought her own knowledge to the table as well as theirs, and she was the only one who knew how to phrase things to get Loki to agree. Especially when he was bending over backward to get her to spend time with him again.

After twenty minutes of posturing and throwing out less effective suggestions, the council agreed to cut back the espionage efforts in the Americas. Only by 30%, but it was still a significant sum of money. Another few hundred thousand dollars was added when Miranda advocated to cancel the large birthday party that was to be thrown for her. She had hated the idea since it was first brought up, and she wasn’t wrong when she said that if they went to an art museum and then a play that they sponsored that it would look far better than yet another fancy evening of dancing and drinking.

But mostly, she wanted to go to the Louvre. She’d never been to Paris and like hell was she about to miss out on an opportunity to wander the Louvre.

Loki left first, as always. The rest of the council stood at the table and waited until he had swept out of the room before they left. There were no snide remarks this time. They didn’t need to say anything anymore for Miranda to know that they wanted her head.

Miranda calmly gathered her things. Her loose hair fell forward and hid her self-satisfied smirk. She was always the last to leave. Bucky waited out in the hall and followed a step behind her as she walked through the halls. By one of the doors to the hidden passages, she handed him her papers.

“Take these,” she said. “I’ll meet you in a minute.” She popped open the door and slipped inside. She closed the panel behind her. Every time they split up, Miranda wondered if it was the right move, but she needed to establish a pattern of behavior. The passages were often forgotten, rarely patrolled. The perfect place to meet someone without interruptions or being noticed. Hopefully, these past two weeks were long enough to establish a pattern for whoever had been assigned to watch her. She bought herself five minutes of unobserved time. Sometimes she carried her papers, sometimes she didn’t. But she always appeared in her room within five minutes.

Bucky didn’t know why she did this but trusted that it was for a reason. The less he knew, the better. It was one of the few things they agreed on.

Miranda slowly opened the panel into her room. She held the latch so that it wouldn’t click as she closed it. For a moment, she stared at the silhouetted figure by the window. Her heart ached. She wanted to fall for the illusion. She couldn’t; but she could play along.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said. She shrugged out of her blazer and tossed in on the low bench that sat at the end of her bed.

Loki turned around, caught off guard for a moment by her sudden appearance. It was Maria’s face that stared at her though. Miranda looked away.

“Don’t insult me by pretending to be her,” she said. When she looked back, the last of the illusion faded away with a golden shimmer.

“I never meant to insult you,” he said. It was genuine. He was always genuine with her.

Miranda curled her lips in and sighed. “I know.”

“You seem to be handling your new position quite well.”

“Am I?” Miranda asked coldly. She strode over to the door and collected her files from Bucky. “I have an unexpected guest,” she said. “Make sure we aren’t interrupted.”

Bucky gave a knowing nod. “Be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?” Miranda smiled tightly and closed the door. Wordlessly, she went over to her desk and sat down. Her workday was far from over. “Did you have something you wanted to talk about?” she asked Loki.

“We haven’t spoken much in the past few weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.” Miranda sorted through her notes. “Someone decided to make me an ambassador.”

“Whoever it was knew that you would be an excellent ambassador.”

Miranda paused and set her papers down. Hands clasped together, she looked up at him. “What do want? You gave me your word that my position on the council would be secret. You broke that promise, and there’s consequences.”

“I had to do something to make your position official,” he said, defensive.

“You’re the king, you can make anything official with a wave of your hand!”

“Not here! Not when there is in-fighting, not when I have to appease an entire council in order to maintain some semblance of control!” He braced himself against the desktop.

Miranda pushed up from her seat and mirrored him. “Well, you’re losing control anyway! Hydra is pulling the strings. You’re barely more than a puppet in your own government.”

“So what would you have me do? Replace you with another puppet master?”

Miranda jerked backward. “No,” she admitted.

“Then we’re finally on the same page,” Loki said. He pushed off the desk and rose to his full height.

“You appointed me because you trust me to honestly execute your will,” Miranda said slowly. The pieces, now that they were in front of her, made the puzzle embarrassingly simple. “Because you think I don’t have an agenda.”

“What agenda could you have? Escape? Possibly, but then you wouldn’t be here,” Loki said.

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t be,” Miranda said. She sat down, dizzy. She sighed. “What did you come here to talk about? Surely it wasn’t this.”

“I wanted to try something… different.”

“Different?” Miranda said. “And your first thought was to pose as Maria?”

 “You had shown her a certain fondness.”

She stared at her hands as she fiddled with them. “I did.” She paused and caught his gaze. “That doesn’t mean I want to pretend. If I’m with you, I want to be with you,” she said. Miranda took a deep breath. “When it’s just us, we should be honest with each other. Be ourselves,” she proposed even though she knew full well she could never keep her end of the bargain. It was too dangerous to be herself around him.

“I think we both know that goes against our natures.”

“Maybe. But maybe that’s why we should try.”

“And where do you suggest we start?” Loki asked.

Miranda shrugged and leaned forward. “I’ll start: I like to be on top.” She smirked at the dumbstruck look on his face. He’d never even considered it. She hummed. “Well, you wanted something different, right? So go lie down on the bed and wait for me to finish working.”

Loki scoffed. “You’d rather work?”

“I can always kick you out of my room and continue to stay out of your bed,” Miranda said casually as she turned back to her papers. A moment later she heard the bed dip as Loki laid down. “Good,” she said, already falling into her more dominant persona.

She didn’t rush. Half the fun (for her) was his impatience, so she took her time with her work. Miranda took a deep breath as she cleared her desk. She knew him intimately, as intimately as he knew her, and all the things that she wanted to do now that she was in control ran through her mind faster than she could process. Meanwhile, anticipation, excitement, and curiosity rolled off of him in waves, an intoxicating mix.

This, she decided, wouldn’t be about staying in his good graces or anything remotely to do with anything that existed outside her room. It would be about them, about what they needed from each other. Because, with God as her witness, she needed to pretend she had a modicum of control over some aspect of her life.

 

Miranda stared at the canopy over her bed and absently stroked Loki’s hair. He laid on top of her, his head on her stomach. It was relaxed, easy. She closed her eyes and pretended, for just a moment, that they weren’t anyone of importance. That they could just lie there in quiet intimacy for as long as they wanted. They couldn’t, but they could stay awhile longer.

Cautiously, she reached into his mind. It was calmer than it had been two hours ago; though she could feel the sharp edge of stress press in at the edges. She pushed it back. He needed this moment of vulnerability and she intended to make it last as long as she could if she couldn’t make it last as long as he needed.

But sometimes minds can be unpredictable and before Miranda was fully aware of it, she was sucked into a memory at the center of his stress.

It was dark. Crags of black stone hid the starry sky from view. There was no light pollution to eat away at the stars, millions of tiny pinpricks in the void of space. It felt empty, even though a figure encased in shadow sat on a throne.

And it was hot. Too hot.

Miranda felt the sweat run down her face and back in rivulets. She shook violently and the chains that held her in place rattled. She would die here and that terrified her.

The figure leaned forward. Miranda could make out his face now, his purple skin. The cruelty in his eyes.  _ Make it hotter. _

Miranda snapped back to herself. Her heart pounded like it would explode. Miranda couldn’t catch her breath, she could still hear the purple man’s voice in her ears:  _ You will work for me. _

Loki cradled her face with one hand. Gently, he turned her head so she had to look him in the eye. Miranda focused on his eyes, his beautiful eyes. He shushed her and shifted them both so that he could cradle her against his chest.

“I’m sorry you saw that,” he whispered into her hair several minutes later when Miranda had calmed down.

Miranda sat up and stared at him. He knew. He knew that she saw his memory.

He sighed. “You are gifted, my dear, but you have much to learn. You have only ever seen that which I have allowed you to see.”

“So you’ve known this whole time?” Miranda’s mouth tasted sour.

“I am as loathe to share the news with Hydra as you are.” He searched her face. “I cannot read minds as you do.” Loki pressed the tips of his fingers to her temple, and for a moment Miranda was transported to her parents’ backyard. She squealed as she ran through the sprinkler, the freezing cold water welcome on such a hot summer day.

“But you can,” Miranda said.

“But I do not do so often.” He tucked her hair back behind her ear. His hand rested on the back of her neck.

Miranda swallowed, guilty. “I shouldn’t have looked.”

“I should have hidden it from you.”

“Well now that I know, maybe we should talk about it,” Miranda said. “Because I don’t know about you, but I’m scared shitless by what I saw.”

Loki dropped her gaze. He stared towards the windows. “His name is Thanos.”

Miranda waited. She leaned into him again so that he wouldn’t have to look at her while he spoke if he didn’t want to. No one else knew what he was about to reveal to her. No one else would, either. This was between the two of them.

The story didn’t start where Miranda thought it would. Loki went back to over two years ago and told her about Thor’s banishment and all the revelations that came out of it. He told her about how he had a chance to survive, but instead, he let go and fell into nothing off the Bifrost. And how what found him was worse than what he left behind.

“Thanos wants to restore order to the universe,” he said.

“An impossible goal.”

Loki sighed. “It might not be.” He told her about the Infinity Stones. The more he told her, the more his stress ebbed away.

She hadn’t realized how much weight he carried around with him.

“Just because that’s his plan doesn’t mean he’ll succeed,” Miranda said. “If he needs the stones, then we just make sure he doesn’t get them.”

“He will come for Earth. There are three stones here, and I am in possession of two of them.”

Miranda shifted. “We’ll figure something out. Are you still talking to him?”

“Yes. He is interested in meeting you. I believe he thinks you are a distraction.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

He chuckled. “It’s not.”

“But,” Miranda slid out of bed, “that is a problem for another day. We both have responsibilities.” She held out her hand and pulled him to the edge of the bed. Miranda kissed his head. “Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Someday I hope our conversations are not so heavy.”

Miranda chuckled. “Maybe someday.”

They quickly dressed. Miranda re-tied his tie around her own neck, the slippery black silk cool on her skin. He zipped up the back of her dress. Miranda handed the tie to Loki, and for a brief moment, realized that they were an efficient team. She liked being in his company. The only thing that held her back was the memory of that impenetrable darkness of solitary.

He left through the passages. Miranda stood there a moment, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. Mindlessly, she made the bed. It wasn’t as tight as the housekeepers made it, but she took the time to let things fall into place. When she finished, she pulled her hair back into a tight bun and wiggled her feet into her heels. She opened the door. Bucky looked over his shoulder at her rather than down the hall. She jerked her head and he followed her through the door.

“I need you to train me to fight,” she said. She went to her desk. Her appointment book was somewhere. “I can box and I’m pretty good at that, but that doesn’t mean I can fight.” She looked up at him. “Will you?”

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Because there are greater threats than Hydra and I want to be prepared.” Miranda opened her appointment book. “I want it to be off-the-record for the time being. Hydra is still a threat to us.”

“How I am supposed to train you in secret?”

“I know a place,” she said. She scribbled down a note in her book. She kept meticulous track of her time. It made it easier to lie about what she did. “Grab your coat, I’ll show you.”

 

She lead him through the garden paths to a section that wasn’t visible from the palace. Miranda zipped her jacket up the rest of the way before she pushed through a small gap in the hedge to the clearing on the other side. The tall grass had bowed over during the winter and had yet to stand back up, though signs of life burst through as a bright shade of green. Bucky pushed through after her. Miranda kicked off her heels and buried her toes in the sun-warmed grass.

“They forget about this clearing on patrols,” she said. “It’s not really marked.” She turned her face towards the sun and closed her eyes.

“How did you find it?”

“When we first got here, I made it my business to know where everything is. I found a lot of places they haven’t.” She turned to him. “We’ll have to come in the early morning. It’s the only time I have that wouldn’t be terribly suspicious. They know I like to walk in the gardens, and if I say I fancy seeing the sunrise now and then, who’s to know the difference?” She picked up her shoes but didn’t put them back on. Not yet.

Bucky scanned the clearing. “You seem to have this all planned out.”

“You should know by now I prefer to be a few steps ahead.”

He nodded absently. He knew. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t make some dumb decisions in the meantime though. She couldn’t plan for everything. But he agreed to teach her. If Miranda was going to get herself into trouble, someone had to give her the skills to get out of it.

They started the next morning. Miranda tossed her jacket aside, which left her in tight workout pants and a thin tank top over her sports bra. While she busied herself with warm-ups, Bucky walked around the perimeter of the clearing. When Bucky circled back around to her, she had moved on to practicing boxing combinations. Every once in awhile she paused, adjusted her stance or her arm and tried again. Bucky watched her for a moment. Then he nudged her foot with his own. She froze.

“You need to lower your center of gravity,” Bucky said. “Do you know how to kick?”

“Sure.”

“Show me.”

Miranda shifted her weight to her back foot and brought up her right leg until it was even with her waist. She bent it at the knee then snapped it out. She curled it back and let her footrest on the ground for a beat before picking it up again to kick higher, this time above her head.

Bucky nodded. “Again.”

All they did that morning was run through the motions. Bucky needed to learn where she was starting, and Miranda needed to remember what she knew. Muscle memory only lasted so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear from you! Lemme hear your thoughts!


	11. Tale As Old As Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Miranda's 21st birthday!

What had started as a soft drizzle turned into a deluge by late morning. Miranda watched raindrops race down the window panes. Bucky sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk. She smiled; she wasn’t the only one that was restless after being kept inside by the weather for three days in a row.

“Aren’t you at least curious?” Bucky asked.

“Not really. They’re more to impress Loki than me,” she said. The stack of presents was sure to be full of trinkets that were embarrassingly expensive. She’d opened a small one, fingers crossed that it was something normal, to reveal a necklace with an opal pendant as big as her eye surrounded by pink diamonds. She’d given up after that, too overwhelmed by the casual wealth.

“I mean, it’s rude to not at least look, right?” he said.

Miranda sighed and set her work aside. “Is that your way of saying you want to see what I got for my birthday?” she said dryly.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m curious. Aren’t you?”

Miranda hummed and stared at the pile. “Yes,” she admitted. “This just isn’t what I imagined my twenty-first birthday to look like.”

“What did you imagine?”

“Getting drunk at a bar and not paying for any of my drinks, then waking up hungover and sleeping the day away. Being a fucking normal college kid.”

“That’s what passes for normal these days?”

“Has since, like, the ‘80s.” Miranda shrugged. “At least that’s what the movies make it look like.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t even want that anymore. I just miss my family.” She stared out the window. “I just want to go home.” She sniffled and brushed away her tears. “Which is selfish of me,” she said with a chuckle.

“No, it’s not.” Bucky leaned forward and grabbed her hand on the desktop. “You’re just homesick.” He got up and walked around the desk. He pulled her to her feet so he could envelop her in a hug.

She squeezed him back. “What do you remember about your twenty-first?” she asked to distract herself. Her voice was muffled against his chest.

“That it wasn’t anything all that special. I think we went out dancing, but we did that every week. Though I think it was one of the few times that I actually convinced Steve to dance.”

“He was bad, wasn’t he?”

Bucky chuckled. “Terrible. Two left feet, no sense of rhythm.”

Still pressed against him, Miranda looked up at him. “Do you think you could teach me how to swing?” She blushed. “Dance. Swing dance.”

“Sure,” he said. He smiled.

They went through the motions slowly at first, gradually building speed. Miranda nearly tripped over her own feet when they tried to go as fast as they could. She laughed, high and light and genuine for what felt like the first time in ages. They slowed down to an aimless waltz that ebbed into swaying back and forth to the beat of their hearts, the only music the soft patter of rain on the windows. Miranda closed her eyes and leaned her head against Bucky’s chest. His cheek rested on the top of her head.

Maybe her birthday wouldn’t be so bad.

*****

Miranda’s style team arrived early the next morning, her birthday. While they set up, Miranda read a few documents that required her attention. She was about to take a tour of the territories, and to truly be prepared she needed to know the political side of their relationship, and she wanted to understand as much as she could about their culture. She didn’t want to seem insensitive. For her, it was as much about maintaining Loki’s alliances as it was about forging some of her own.

Miranda sat quietly as they did her hair and makeup. Her mind was other places. Not actually, since she wasn’t trapezing through other people’s minds, but she wasn’t focused on what was in front of her either. She kept thinking about what Loki had told her about Thanos. He was terrified but he hadn’t mentioned Thanos as a threat to the council. She wondered if she was blowing it out of proportion.

She pushed it aside. It was her birthday, the one day she should allow herself to not think about anything stressful. A ridiculous idea for someone in her situation. She didn’t have that luxury.

Her makeup was soft despite the red lipstick. Half her hair was pulled up into a bun, the rest allowed to flow freely. Matching earrings and a necklace bore delicate roses made with red gold. It didn’t fit together in Miranda’s head until she saw the yellow sundress she was supposed to wear. She smiled. At least her team didn’t see her as fully complicit in everything.

*****

Miranda sat on a bench and stared at  _ Liberty Leading the People _ , overwhelmed. She had known that the Louvre held a great collection of art but to see all these masterpieces in person, one after the other… she had to take a moment.

The museum was mostly empty. The regular staff was there, and they had an entourage of their own, but it still felt like it was just the two of them. Her head swam when she thought about the arrangements that had been made to let them privately view the art.

“So these are Midgardian masterpieces,” Loki said as he sat down beside her. “I’ve never seen so much beauty in one place.”

“That’s what art museums are for,” she said. “Collections of art and history. So many facets of humanity can be found here. It’s all stories, in the end.”

“And what story does this piece have?” he asked.

Which is how, over the next few hours, Miranda ended up pulling Loki from masterpiece to masterpiece as a fountain of information poured out of her She knew so many pieces, some of which she couldn’t remember why she knew them.

Whenever she glanced at him, she couldn’t decide if he was falling more in love with her or with humans as a whole. All she knew was that if he kept looking at her like that, with the same awe as each and every piece of art, she’d damn well fall in love with him, consequences be damned. Lord knew she was already halfway there.

*****

They went to a concert at the Palais Garnier that evening after dinner. Miranda’s yellow sundress had been traded out for a strapless evening gown that faded from black to white. Her jewelry was simple: diamonds in silver. Loki traded his suit for a tux. They were in Galerie 2, which, while it was easier to secure, in some ways, Miranda also knew it was so that they could be seen as much as it was for them to see the show.

During intermission, Miranda walked up and down the hall to stretch. She felt restless. She held on to Bucky’s arm for support as she paced. The main auditorium buzzed with activity she knew only she could hear. People’s thoughts and emotions were going wild. There was fear and admiration; contempt and pity. Her head spun. Every time she closed her eyes, her vision swam with hundreds of different colored lights.

She sat down hard on a bench. “I’m not made for this,” she said under her breath. Miranda looked up at Bucky. At his stupid stubble and slicked-back hair, his stupid little bow tie. The stupid little dimple in his chin. The stupid look in his eyes like she carried the secrets to the universe. Miranda looked away. Loki looked at her like that, too, but it didn’t make it any easier to see. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and cradled her head in her hands. It felt like her skull would split open. She hadn’t realized how few people she had been around in the last year until tonight when suddenly she was assaulted with the thoughts of a large crowd in a small space.

“Are you all right?” Bucky asked.

“Just a headache,” she said. She stared at the carpet.

Miranda sat there a moment longer before she got up and went back to her seat in the Galerie. Whoever Loki had been speaking to (she didn’t care, not now, not tonight, who the man was) quickly left after she sat down. Miranda wondered what that was about. Loki would tell her if she needed to know about it, she trusted. She hoped she wouldn’t.

After the concert, they were driven to a hotel. They would stay in the suite overnight, visit a few sites around the city the next day, and then be on their way back to Versailles. While they passed through the city, Miranda stared out the window at the lights. She wondered if there were less now after the occupation began.

“My dear,” Loki said, pulling her attention away from the view outside the car, “I have something for you.” He reached his hand out and with a flick of his wrist, a beautiful golden bracelet appeared in his hand. Miranda held out her wrist and he fastened it.

It was a cuff, perfectly fitted to her left wrist. She could barely make out the tiny filigree on its surface in the low light, but there was no hiding the energy that emanated from it. Even that energy paled in comparison to the golden jewel nestled in the metalwork.

Miranda knew the jewel. It was the same one that had been in Loki’s scepter.

“The runes should keep it from hurting you, and help hide you both,” Loki said.

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his face and the bracelet for a moment. “I’m the best hiding place you can think of?” she asked, unsure if she was flattered by his trust or floored by his stupidity.

“There are few people in this universe that I trust.” He paused. “You’ve earned my trust, and that is harder to do than protect an Infinity Stone.” He turned and faced forward.

A moment later, the car pulled up in front of the hotel. The driver came around and opened their doors. Miranda pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and shivered. The night air was cold. She looked up to the sky, the stars barely visible through the haze of the city lights.

“Go ahead, my dear,” Loki said. “Something has come up that requires my attention.”

Miranda glanced at the agents waiting to speak with him. Her mouth felt dry.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” she said. Miranda leaned up and pecked his cheek before she stepped through the glass doors into the lobby.

Once in the suite, Miranda took out her earrings and unclasped the necklace. Both went back into their cushioned boxes. She let her hair down, shook it out, fluffed it with her hands. Nerves churned in her gut. Barefoot, she paced back and forth in front of the doors to the balcony. The windows acted like mirrors, she couldn’t see out of them.

“They’re telling him about the clip,” Miranda said finally. She turned to Bucky with her hands gripped together, white-knuckled. “He just told me that I’ve done the near-impossible by earning his trust and they’re telling him that I helped the Avengers get into the Ark.”

“Deny it,” Bucky said.

“Of course I’m going to deny it, I’m not stupid!” she snapped. “But I don’t know if he’ll believe me, and when he doesn’t—”

“If,” Bucky interrupted.

“When,” she repeated. “When he doesn’t, I need you to disappear. Go to the Avengers, to Wakanda, I don’t care. Prince T’Challa has my statement. They’ll release it after I’m…” She trailed off. “Anyway, just promise me that you’ll go.”

“I’m not gonna abandon you,” Bucky said.

“You’re not. I’m giving you your orders,” Miranda said firmly. She looked him in the eye. “In the event of my arrest or execution, you will either find the Avengers or go to Wakanda, at which time you will direct them to release my statement. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Miranda took a deep breath. “Go to your station. I have to pretend I don’t know anything.” She turned around and stared at her reflection in the balcony doors. After a moment, Bucky turned and stepped outside to wait in the hall. She watched him go, heart heavy. She hoped that wasn’t the last they would see of each other. This wasn’t what she wanted for their goodbyes.

Miranda reached behind her to unzip the dress, but she couldn’t get a grip on the damn thing. After a few minutes, she gave up with a frustrated huff. The lights flickered.

Miranda sat down on the couch for a moment. She sprang to her feet a moment later and began to pace again, too restless to stay still. When she finally sensed Loki coming to the door, she slipped out onto the balcony and left the doors open behind her, the gauzy curtains pulled over it to catch the breeze. Romantic. She had to make it look romantic, like that was all she expected. Miranda took a deep breath and shivered as she leaned on the railing to stare out over the city. The Eiffel Tower twinkled in the distance.

The door opened and clicked closed. She didn’t move. Loki pushed through the curtains. He stood on the threshold.

_ He can’t read my thoughts without contact, _ she reminded herself.

“It’s a lovely night,” she said. She suppressed a shiver.

“How could you?” he said, barely above a whisper.

She frowned and turned around. “What?”

“You gave information to the Avengers,” he said. He strode forward into her space. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. He held a small device in his hand and pressed a button on it.

“ _ Is there any other information that Mr. Stark should know? _ ” asked Jarvis’ recorded voice.

 “ _Yes_ ,” came her own voice. “ _Um, Alexander Pierce says he’s in charge. And that he’s S.H.I.E.L.D., but he’s actually Hydra and I think everyone else that came with him is, too. And he has an operative that he calls the Winter Soldier._ _I have reason to believe that the Winter Soldier is not a willing participant_.”

“ _ Understood. Do you wish to share your reason? _ ”

“ _ No _ .”

Loki clicked the button again and the recording stopped.

“You think that’s my voice?” she said.

“I know it is.”

“Don’t you think that the timing of this ‘evidence’ is a little suspicious? I mean, you know Pierce hates me. He’d do anything to bring me down.” Miranda’s confidence faltered. She started to calculate the odds of her survival if she fell. They were slim.

“Then why would he hide it? The agents who brought it to me did so at great personal risk,” Loki said. Miranda slumped against the railing.

“Did they tell you when that was recorded?” She looked over her shoulder at the building across the street for a moment before she turned her attention back to him. “Because it was October. It took us months.”

“Is that supposed to make me  _ sympathetic _ ?” He sneered at the last word as though the thought disgusted him.

The lights in the room and the streetlamps below them dimmed.

“It’s supposed to be context. We were scared and the only thing that kept us sane was the  _ chance _ , however infinitesimal it may have been, that we could go back to our lives. It was before I was more than a concubine and long before I felt anything genuine for you.”

“Stop lying,” he growled. He crowded over her again but she stood to her full height.

“I’m not,” she said. “I was manipulating you, yes, but how is that any worse than you not releasing us from  _ slavery _ ? I did what I had to to survive, and need I remind you,  _ I left with you _ .” She jabbed a finger against his chest. “I gave up my one shot to get away because I was more afraid of what would happen if I failed than I was of staying with you.” She pushed him out of her space.

The lights began to glow brighter and brighter.

He glared at her. Miranda felt her chest heaving — the dress was too tight for her to breathe heavily. She felt crackles of electricity form in her fists and crawl up her arms. She could see the faint glow of it from the corner of her eye. She felt powerful.

“You were the one person I thought I could trust here!” Loki nearly shouted.

“I’m the one person you talk to that’s not a fucking Nazi!”

A bulb in their room burst. Both of them jumped and looked towards the noise. The rest of the lights returned to their normal glow. Miranda put her hand to her left shoulder. It suddenly hurt like the devil.

Her hand came away wet. And red. “Loki?” she said. He turned back to look at her and his anger evaporated immediately. “I think I’m bleeding.” Miranda swayed. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was falling forward into his arms. He picked her up and shouted for help.


	12. Amplify

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the weeks that follow Miranda's birthday, nothing is the same. With tensions on the rise, Miranda has to learn how to balance her self-destruction and self-preservation.

The only window in the room was to the hallway. The blinds were pulled up so doctors and nurses could see in as they passed by. Surgery had gone well, Miranda was recovering steadily, but with as much damage as there had been, it was still touch and go. Bucky was stationed at her side, not that he would want to be elsewhere anyway. Three armed guards were at the door at all times.

Miranda groaned in her sleep but didn’t open her eyes. She wouldn’t for a while with all the drugs they pumped into her for the surgery. Bucky stared at the blue IV. It made him uneasy to see it drip into her system but he couldn’t remember why. Bucky counted her breaths. The monitors beeped steadily in the background.

Bucky fell into parade rest when the door opened. A doctor came in with Loki close behind. Bucky noted that it didn’t seem like Loki had slept much in the past two days.

“She’s recovering quite well,” the doctor said. “The bullet passed clean through her shoulder but it did surprisingly little damage for the caliber, so she should recover full use of her left arm. Though, I doubt she would ever recover her full strength without the serum.” She checked the levels of the blue IV and the saline. She marked something on her clipboard. “Though once the IV runs out, she will need to be exposed to gamma rays in order for the serum to take full effect,” the doctor continued, her voice rounded with caution. “If she survives that, I see no reason for her not to make a full recovery.”

Loki nodded and dismissed the doctor. He pulled the only chair in the room over to the bedside and sat down. He held Miranda’s hand. The room was quiet aside from the beeping machines for a moment before Loki spoke. “You know her well,” he said. “Do you think she would want to be saved?”

“Sir?” Bucky said. He wasn’t sure he knew what Loki meant. Of course she would want to live. It’s just where and how and the cost that made things difficult.

“They said a piece of the bullet broke off and nearly pierced her heart. She should be dead. But she’s too stubborn for that.” He reached up and brushed hair back from her face.

Bucky clenched his jaw.

“I believe I asked you a question.”

“I think she would want to live, sir,” Bucky said.

“Just not in captivity,” he said quietly. Bucky wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it.

They lapsed into silence. Loki stayed there for just over an hour. He never took his eyes off of her face, and for some reason, that made Bucky angrier than he could understand. When Loki finally left, Bucky relaxed some.

Miranda hadn’t moved. He wondered how much she could hear, how much she knew about what was happening around her.

_ It’s not like I’m missing anything exciting _ , he could almost hear her say. Then he heard a noise almost like feedback on a microphone before her voice came again:  _ Hello? Is this thing on? _

He looked at her prone form in the hospital bed. Bucky closed his eyes and rubbed them. When was the last time he slept? He must be hallucinating.

_ Nope, just me _ . Her voice was clearer now. The floor lurched under Bucky’s feet. When he steadied himself, he wasn’t in the hospital room anymore, he was in a backyard. The fence was a simple chainlink one, and the grass was green. The sun was just beginning to set. The concrete patio was cracked and a few weeds poked out where they could. Miranda was further out into the yard by a firepit that had been dug into the ground. Her cut-off shorts were barely longer than the oversized flannel she wore over a faded D.A.R.E. t-shirt. She was barefoot, and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail that looked like it’s only purpose was to keep her hair out of her face.

She made a motion like she was elbowing someone behind her before she ran over to him. Miranda wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “God, I wasn’t sure this would work.”

“Where are we?”

“Technically, about a hundred and thirty-two different memories of my parents’ backyard,” she said, “but the important part is that it’s my head?” She raised both her hands, palms up, and smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. When he didn’t say anything she frowned. “Don’t be like that, if I’d been able to I would have talked to Loki like this.”

Bucky scoffed. “Right.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t have. Sue me.” She turned around and walked back over to the firepit. Bucky followed and watched her kneel down to light it. She brushed her knees off when she stood.

“He’s scared,” Bucky said.

“I know.” Miranda prodded the fire with a long stick. More of the wood caught. “I’m not ready to talk to him.” They watched the fire grow in silence. “Aren’t you going to ask why I brought you here?”

“I can guess.”

“What’re they pumping into me? The shit from the surgery’s pretty much gone, but I’m still sedated. And there’s something else. It burns like hell.”

“It’s a serum,” he said. He could feel the warmth of the fire though it felt distant. A memory of warmth. “I’m not sure what it does. I can’t remember.”

“But you know it,” she said. He nodded. “Do you think they gave it to you?”

Bucky frowned. “No. I think… I think I stole it for them.”

Miranda hummed. She poked a log that was about to collapse so she could control how it fell. “If you don’t think about it, it’ll come to you. Your brain will figure it out on its own.”

They grew quiet again. Miranda pulled off her flannel. The sleeves of her shirt had been cut off. She put the flannel on the ground and sat cross-legged on top of it. She pulled him down to sit next to her. Her fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck.

“How long have we been here?” he asked. A log fell over and sent a flurry of sparks up into the air.

“Almost a full second,” she said. “I’ve stayed longer.”

“You live in your head, Andy, that’s how memories work.”

“Not like this,” she said. She turned to him. “The yard’s a memory. The sky’s a memory. The fire’s a memory. You’re not. This conversation isn’t. What we’re thinking isn’t.”

“Which is confusing.” Bucky pinched the top of his nose.

“I guess.” She leaned back on her hands. “I keep thinking about what happened. The lights were weird. Dimming one second, normal the next. And then they got really bright. Like really bright. I think a bulb burst.”

“One did, yeah,” Bucky said. He’d burst into the room after he’d heard the noise. Just in time to see Loki come in off the balcony with Miranda in his arms. He’d cleared the room after calling for a medic.

She nodded. “I think that was me.” Miranda stared into the fire. She sighed. “I think my powers are getting stronger. And this mystery serum is just making it worse. Cranking up my powers to super-powers,” she joked. She nudged him with her shoulder.

He was lost in thought. In the flames. Same difference.

“Okay, well, this was nice,” she said. “I suppose I should let you keep guarding my unconscious form.”

“What will you do?”

“Watch the fire burn down, I guess. Then maybe I’ll go swimming. I don’t know, but this is the closest I’m gonna get to getting outta here.” She looked over her shoulder at the tan one-and-a-half story house. “This is home.”

Bucky nodded. Slowly, she watched him fade as she let him back into his own mind. Once he was gone, she curled up on her side and watched the fire burn. She could almost pretend that the burning in her veins was just the heat of the fire. Almost.

*****

She didn’t talk to Bucky like that again. She didn’t talk to Loki either, during his visits. The pain from the burning grew stronger and stronger until she was afraid that it would bleed out if she brought either of them in. And then she felt herself float up out of the sedation.

They were moving her to a different room. Dazed, she watched the fluorescent lights scroll passed as they pushed her bed down the halls. Everything was made out of concrete. She wondered if they were underground.

“She’s waking up,” someone said to her right.

“That’s what they wanted,” said whoever was pushing her.

Miranda blinked a few more times. She was gonna punch whoever stuffed her mouth full of cotton. Her tongue felt heavy, awkward. Her left arm tingled. She looked down and watched her fingers wiggle; though even that small movement was excruciating. The bracelet was still there.

They paused in front of a set of double doors while they waited for them to open. The room beyond had a high ceiling. In the middle of it was a machine that looked like a coffin.

She really didn’t want to get in it. She knew she had to. That’s what they’d brought her in here for. Miranda tried to sit up. Nobody stopped her. The nurses stopped a few feet away from the coffin-thing. There was a little window right about where her face would be.

She looked back towards the door as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Above the door, behind a plate of glass, was what she could only describe as a viewing area. The council, Loki, and Bucky were all up there, as well as a few other guards.

The nurses helped her to her feet. She swayed. The mystery serum still burned in her veins. They guided her over to the machine. Her knees gave out.

“This is to help you recover,” said a doctor. She adjusted a dial on the machine and it opened. “It’s nothing to fear.”

Miranda nodded numbly. She knew they weren’t going to try to kill her, not while Loki was right there. But she couldn’t figure out how this was supposed to help her. Couldn’t she just do physical therapy for a few months? Why was this necessary? Was she  _ dying _ ?

They helped her into the machine. Leather straps pinned her wrists to her sides; another rested across her torso. The doctor pressed a few sensors to her head and chest. When they connected to the computers, the heart monitor beeped wildly.

“Please, please don’t,” she mumbled. “I don’t need it. Please, just let me —”

The machine tipped back and closed over her. Miranda did her best not to scream, but then they turned the machine on and she couldn’t hold it back. Every cell in her body felt like it was being rent apart. Each molecule rearranged. For a moment, she was sure she was just a mass of atoms in a vaguely human shape. Then it all stopped.

Miranda panted as the machine tipped back up. She could hear the faint heartbeats of the doctor and nurses, the electronic hum of the equipment. Something smelled metallic and hot. The machine opened, and for a moment she forgot about the restraints. She pushed off the machine; the straps snapped under the strain. She stepped down, dizzy.

“How do you feel?” the doctor asked.

“Different,” Miranda said, the only word that felt even close to describing all the sensations running through her nerves. She could feel every thread, every stitch, of the hospital gown. Even though her head spun, her stance was firm. She felt overloaded with sensory information. It was worse than when she had gotten powers, partly because she was getting crystal-clear information from everyone within a hundred yards of her and could feel the electricity flowing through the wiring in the walls, and because her own basic senses were adjusting to the new input.

She undid the leather cuffs on her wrists. Gradually, her senses adjusted. The new pathways in her brain formed and cemented themselves. She could process everything she was taking in now.

Miranda slowly looked up at the viewing box, her gaze hard. Hydra had wanted her dead. Instead, they had to use the last of their precious serum to heal her and make her stronger than ever. Some of them hoped for gratitude. Miranda scoffed. They were foolish to think she wouldn’t use her new-found strength to take their empire down. She’d go brick by brick if she had to. That was the problem with their gamble: she wasn’t on their side.

“We need to do a full physical, ma’am,” said the doctor.

Miranda nodded. She followed instructions: stuck out her tongue; breathed in, out; sat still while they checked her reflexes; said nothing when they tested her strength and stamina. Her anger simmered under her skin. Bucky had remembered what the serum was.

It was a super-soldier serum.

*****

Gravel crunched under her feet as Miranda ran down the garden paths. They hadn’t kept her long after they injected the serum, though she had “check-ups” once a week. They told her she should take it easy, that recovery takes time. She’d been shot, after all. Miranda didn’t give a flying fuck. The scar on her shoulder was barely visible. The tattoo on her wrist had faded to the point where it was hardly there anymore. The burn scar on her leg that she’d gotten in eighth grade from the muffler of a friend’s four-wheeler was gone. Her body wasn’t squishy anymore in places that it used to be. The stretch marks that she’d gotten through puberty were gone.

She hated all of it. This body wasn’t hers. So she pushed it to its limits. Clocked a 3:41.45 mile. Lifted furniture just to find  _ something  _ that would strain her muscles (she didn’t). Ran and ran and ran until she felt sick (twenty miles at top speed, thirty-four if she took her time). She could go for three days without sleep before she was about to pass out at any given moment.

She had to eat more, though, to keep up with her new metabolism. Food was different now. Flavors were stronger, textures stood out from each other.

Her powers had changed too. She could reach farther, learn faster. She could control electronics to some degree. Something told her she always had been able to mess with electricity, she just hadn’t tapped into that facet of her powers unless she was furious, which she hadn’t been until—

She pushed herself to run faster. She wanted, needed, to feel the burn in her lungs and the strain in her legs. She blew passed Bucky, who clicked the lap button on the timer for the doctor. When she came around again, she slowed to a stop, then jogged over to them.

“Shaved off 1.23 seconds, ma’am,” Dr. Groush said.

“Great,” Miranda said. She grabbed her water bottle and drank.

Her skin glistened with sweat, but that was more from the heat of the early-June sun than from the running. They’d been doing this for seven weeks now. Sometimes she bested herself, sometimes she didn’t. It was all dependent on her mood. She was sure they’d figured that out by now.

“Am I free to go?” she asked.

“Yes, we’re done for the day.” Dr. Groush looked over her chart.

Miranda nodded over her shoulder towards their secret clearing. Bucky nodded. He understood. She always needed to blow off steam after her check-ups.

The trees provided enough shade that they weren’t in full sun. The grass was cool, and in some spots it was still dew-slick. It didn’t bother either of them anymore. Miranda had learned to counter for it when she landed after falling hard a dozen or so times. The one good thing the serum had done for her was speed up her healing rate. Bruises that would take weeks to heal took days. Minor cuts healed in hours. All that meant to her was that she and Bucky could spar and, if she played her cards right, no one would know.

Bucky had gotten some dummy knives somehow a few weeks prior. Miranda pulled them out of the box they’d hidden in a tree hollow and threw both of them to Bucky. They didn’t need to talk. This was second nature now. Miranda learned as much from their sessions as she did from reading Bucky’s memories of the Red Room while they sparred. Natalia had been his best student. Miranda set out to beat her.

She always came close. Never better. She supposed it was because Natalia had years of training on her side. Miranda had weeks. Still, it was nice to have a rival.

The sun was high in the sky when Bucky held up his hand. Miranda dropped her leg instead of following through with the round-house kick aimed for his side.

“You’re gonna be missed by now,” he said.

“So?” Miranda rolled her shoulders. She had one of the knives now and flipped it. She still didn’t have the deadly grace with it that Bucky had. Or Natalia. “If you need a break, take one.” She kept tossing the knife. It spun end over end before the hilt landed in her palm.

“You and I both know —”

“Fuck the surveillance. Let them stew, let them scramble to find me. I’m not gonna sit there and let them poke at me like I’m an experiment. We’ve been over this.”

“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here,” Bucky said sharply. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“This is me taking care of myself,” she said. “This is me making sure I can fight whoever comes at me.”

“Like hell, you’re taking care of yourself! You keep pushing until you find a breaking point and one of these days, you’re gonna find one you can’t bounce back from.”

“Fuck off, Barnes, I’m not made of fucking glass!”

“Even fucking diamonds can get worn down!” he said. “You’re not invincible just because you have a super-soldier serum in your veins!”

Miranda threw the dagger at his feet. They both stared at it when it stayed upright in the dirt. Bucky pulled it out of the ground. Nearly half of it had been embedded in the ground.

“Do you really think Hydra should know your limits?” Bucky asked softly. “Do you really think that after everything they wouldn’t take the first opportunity they had to shape you into a weapon? That you’re giving them everything they need to know about how far they can push you before you’re too worn out to be useful anymore?”

“I’ve already told you how we can avoid that,” Miranda said, sobered by Bucky’s tone.

Bucky shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.” Bucky wiped the dirt off the practice blade and moved to put them both back in the box. “Loki is still cautious with you. You can’t afford to seem any more suspicious than you already are.”

Miranda suppressed a groan. “You’re overly cautious.”

“I’m the right amount of cautious.  _ You’re  _ just reckless.” Bucky pointed at her.

Miranda grinned. “I thought reckless was your type.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. At least she’d calmed down enough to flirt. It was always a sign that she was almost back to her usual snarky self. Miranda wasn’t so sure. Everything felt different now. It was like everything had been amplified.


	13. I'm the Kind of Fuck-Up You Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After adjusting to her new form, Miranda gets another shock and makes a decision that she may live to regret.

Miranda tossed the resume across the table and sat back in her chair. Loki sighed and leaned on the table. This was the first time they’d been completely alone since she’d been shot. The relief over her recovery had faded away and been replaced by the simmering tension left by their unfinished argument, even after almost two months.

“You can’t reject all of them.”

“I don’t need a personal assistant,” she countered.

“If you’re going to continue to act as my ambassador—”

“I was under the impression you didn’t trust me anymore. You know, since I gave the Avengers information that forced you to vacate the Ark.” She tilted her head to the right. “Or was there I different reason I’m under house arrest?”

Loki clenched his jaw and glared at her. “You know it’s performative. I had to give them something.”

“Right. Because letting them experiment on me wasn’t enough.” Part of her wanted to pull back, to avoid the brewing argument. But she was angry and it was so much harder to temper her emotions now. She felt everything so strongly, passionately. She leaned forward. “I would have recovered just fine.”

“No,” he said. He stared straight into her soul. “I watched them examine you and I watched the entire surgery. They gave you the serum because your heart stopped. It saved your life and I will not apologize for authorizing it.”

“I’m your weak spot and they know it,” Miranda said. She didn’t want to think about what he’d said, the implications. She braced her arms on the table and pushed herself up. “That threatens both of us. You can’t trust them.”

Loki mirrored her on his side of the table. “I don’t.”

“You know we need to look bigger. That’s why you gave me the stone. Hydra doesn’t matter anymore.”

“They are the only reason I have any power,” Loki said. “You’ve said it yourself, I can’t kill my only allies.”

“And what if they weren’t your only allies?” Miranda asked. “I can think of a powerful group of people who would be  _ very  _ interested in protecting the Earth. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that.”

“And what makes you think they would agree to work with me?” He narrowed his eyes.

“You have a very convincing ambassador at your disposal,” she said.

“One who needs an assistant,” Loki said.

“Only if I can meet them in person.” She held out her hand. “I get the final say, and once I have the assistant I so desperately need, I’ll have your permission to reach out to the Avengers?”

Loki looked down at her hand for a moment before he took it. “Agreed.” They shook. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t,” she promised.

In the end, it didn’t happen anyway. Miranda had chosen her assistant (an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, of course) in short order. Arranging a meeting with the Avengers was easier than Miranda had expected, though she had her suspicions that it was because they would be speaking with her. The Avengers hoped to use it as a way to get her out without any bloodshed.

Unfortunately, Hydra heard those whispers, too, and the diplomatic mission was canceled last minute. The council resolutely refused to approve another mission, and without them, there was no way to organize transportation.

Miranda leaned against the wall in the Hall of Mirrors and watched Loki pace. He casually twirled a knife as he did. Outside, a mid-July thunderstorm darkened the sky. Miranda yawned. She pushed off the wall the next time Loki passed by her and snatched the knife out of the air before it could fall back into his hand. It only took a moment for her to get a feel for its weight. With the tip pointed towards her elbow, she swiped at him. He staggered back.

“I’m bored,” she said. She swiped again.

That was all it took for him to catch on. The knife changed hands more than once as they sparred. It was different than sparring with Bucky. Bucky was solid stances and quick doges. No countering for comfort, only for tactics. But she’d learned to watch both hands. Loki was almost liquid in his movements, all grace and agility.

They were both breathing heavily when Loki had her pinned to his front, the knife sharp and cold against the skin of her throat.

“Is that a knife in your pocket,” she leaned back, “or are you just happy to see me?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Loki said. He nipped at her ear.

Even though it made her knees weak, she used it to slip the knife out of his hand and turn to press it against his side. She smirked. “Then I hope you plan to follow through.” She threw the knife aside. It clattered and slid across the marble floor but she barely heard it as they started to kiss.

Loki picked her up with ease and she wrapped her legs around his waist. By the time she felt her back hit the wall, she was edging on desperate and broke the kiss to catch her breath. She pressed her forehead against his.

“I’m more sensitive now,” she said, “since the serum. In case you want to take advantage of that.” She kissed him again. He kissed back harder than before. As he slipped a hand under her shirt, she wondered why she hadn’t tried to spar with him before.

*****

The summer heat was oppressive in the direct sun. Whoever decided that afternoon tea that day should be outside in the garden had forgotten to take into account that it was late August. Miranda waved her fan as she sat in the shade, but it wasn’t enough. Not that inside would be much better. The palace didn’t exactly have climate control. But outside the air was still and the heat danced over the gardens.

Miranda sipped her water. It didn’t help much, though it was better than the tea. She wanted a tall glass of iced tea, or lemonade. Proper lemonade with fresh squeezed lemon juice and just enough sugar to make it tart rather than sour.

Another wave of nausea doused her head to foot. Miranda took a deep breath and got to her feet. She made her excuses to the ladies she had been forced into polite small talk with; then made her way back to the palace to find a doctor. It was probably just heat exhaustion. It had been hot all week, that’s why she was nauseous and restless. Why she almost threw up that morning when she got up. It was just the heat.

 

Miranda sat on the patient table and nibbled on a saltine. She swung her feet back and forth. Her heels thudded against the base without any real rhythm. Miranda was more focused on her breathing. She refused to throw up. She hadn’t thrown up since she was like twelve and she wasn’t about to break that record now.

“How long does it take to run a blood sample?” Bucky said.

Miranda shrugged. “How the hell would I know?”

“Maybe because you can,” he gestured towards his head, “you know.”

“Right,” she said sarcastically. She wiggled her fingers at him like she could send out little waves of energy. “Anyway, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m just nauseous. It’s probably the heat.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then I don’t want to know until I have to,” she said, and because it was Bucky, she let him see how scared she was. She was terrified — the serum was supposed to keep her in tip-top shape, wasn’t it? So what could possibly be so horrible that even though she had the serum she was still sick?

Bucky rubbed his hand across her shoulders for a moment. They both pretended not to notice that she leaned towards him even as he pulled away. The doctor came back in, tablet in hand. 

Miranda tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. She could shut out his thoughts. She couldn’t shut out everything else. She didn’t want him to tell her the results of the blood test. If he said it, it would be real. She couldn’t avoid it then. She wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“We ran a few tests just to be sure. We didn’t want a false positive with something like this,” the doctor said.

_ Please don’t say it, please don’t say it _ , Miranda prayed silently. No one was there to listen.

“Congratulations, your grace. You’re expecting,” the doctor said. He turned the tablet towards her so she could see the three positives.

She didn’t want to see them and stared at the floor instead. She wished it would open up and swallow her whole.

“You’re about five weeks, your grace,” the doctor said.

Miranda nodded numbly and fiddled with her hands.

“It’s still early, but we’ll be able to amend your diet and fitness routines to ensure a healthy pregnancy.”

She couldn’t look at Bucky. She couldn’t face him. Not now, when he had to be blank.

“Would you like me to inform the king?” the doctor asked.

Miranda snapped to attention. “No,” she blurted. “I’ll… I’ll tell him myself.”

The doctor nodded. “In that case, you’re free to return to your room. We’ll get some medical information put together for you by tomorrow morning.”

Miranda nodded and thanked the doctor as she hopped down from the table. She didn’t pause at all as she left the makeshift medical wing. She didn’t stop until she was deep in the gardens in a small grotto. It was cooler now; a front was on its way through. Miranda stared at the fountain, at the small cherubs that decorated it. “Fuck,” she whispered and sat at the fountain’s edge.

Bucky stood still a few feet away from her.

“Fuck,” Miranda repeated. She pushed to her feet and started to pace around the fountain. She chewed on her thumb. Every few seconds, she cursed aloud. Her mind raced ahead of itself, her thoughts coming so fast that she barely had time to process them. She stopped and threw her hands up. “I’m fucked! I’ve got —” she gestured wildly “— maybe twelve hours before Loki finds out if I don’t tell him first and I  _ have  _ to tell him. I can’t let them tell him, and they will. Those doctors report to people and it’ll go up the chain to the council and I... I can’t… I can’t let them tell him. It has to come from me.” She turned to Bucky for help.

“I take it you don’t want this baby,” he said cautiously.

“Can you look me in the eye and tell me that a child would be safe here?” she challenged. “We’re surrounded by Nazis, the empire is shrinking —” She huffed.

“So what are your options? Hydra knows, and as you said, the council will tell him if you don’t. We don’t have a lot of time to change things.”

The fight drained out of Miranda. “I don’t have any. I can’t get rid of it, I can’t hide it. My only option is to tell him. And soon.” She sat back down on the edge of the fountain and buried her face in her hands. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run until Versailles and all the rest of it was far, far behind her.

In the distance, thumber rumbled. A strong wind that promised rain shook the trees. Their leaves rustled, a deafening cacophony.

Miradan had never been one to run away from a fight, not when she thought it was worth fighting. She knew she was in the best possible position to make a difference in this strange new world where aliens and gods and superheroes all existed. Impossible things happened every day. She was in the epicenter, and the universe seemed intent on keeping her there. Every time she tried to leave, something shoved her back. A helicopter. A sniper round. A baby.

Miranda sighed. She would figure it out. The clock was ticking, the pressure on. Her only hope was that it would be enough of a fire under them to make something happen.

*****

She told her assistant first to give her time to relay the information to the Avengers. This wouldn’t end with Miranda telling Loki she was pregnant. More would come after: a wedding, perhaps, to make the child legitimate; and then the image of an heir would be used to strengthen the image of the monarchy, nevermind that Loki would outlive all of them by millennia. It was what people could see that mattered. Her pregnancy, her child, would become propaganda. The least she could do was give the Avengers a heads up.

But she still had to tell Loki. They had started regularly having dinner together again and she planned to tell him that night. Miranda’s nerves were wrecked the rest of the afternoon, and as the hour came closer, her sanity had begun to slowly fray from the stress.

Loki noticed she was tense before she had fully entered the room. He dismissed the attendants. Miranda sat down in the chair he pulled out for her and waited. She didn’t trust herself to not just blurt it out. He sat across from her, his own posture willfully relaxed to put her at ease.

“I owe you an explanation,” she said cautiously. “I promised you that I would tell you how I learned magic someday. Today’s someday.” She took a deep breath before she launched into it. She told him what had happened to her mind, how Hydra had hoped for it because of Project Changeling. He already knew about her ability to read minds, but she didn’t hold back. She told him everything that she had learned about her abilities. “I think they all fall under the realm of energy manipulation,” she said.

“That’s a broad category,” he said.

“It is.” She told him about her theory behind Hydra placing her in his path. “The only thing more powerful than either of us would be —”

“Our child,” Loki said.

Miranda nodded.

“And you’re telling me all this now because you’re…” He trailed off.

“Pregnant,” Miranda confessed. Once she said it, she couldn’t take it back. And she wanted to. She wanted to take back the whole day, go back to that morning when she hadn’t known. She wanted to take back the last five weeks, undo the pregnancy as a whole.

Miranda felt raw, exposed.

Loki leaned back in his chair. “I understand your anxieties,” he said as he fiddled with his empty wine glass, “but we agreed to be more honest, so I won’t hide my excitement from you.” He met her eyes, a tentative smile on his lips.

Miranda reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “You don’t have to. Just know I’m not. I’m too worried.”

He rounded the table and knelt beside her chair. “I won’t let any harm come to either of you.”

Miranda wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep, about things that are outside of his control. But he was so sweet, so eager, that she didn’t have the heart to shut him down. Miranda smiled softly. “I know. I know you’ll do everything you can.”  _ So will I. _

Miranda just hoped it would be enough.

*****

The pregnancy announcement went about as smoothly as Miranda imagined. It was front-page news around the world, her style team was buried under maternity designs, and she had to insist that she was perfectly capable of doing pretty much everything she had been able to do two days prior; including but not limited to her job, getting in and out of bed, and generally going about her day.

Bucky, she decided, was the worst.

He has been assigned to be by her side 24/7, yes, but that didn’t mean  _ literally _ . It never had before. Bucky was always nearby, always had been. Now he was glued to her side and Miranda’s desire to strangle him grew by the hour.

“Barnes,” she said tersely, “if you offer to help me down the stairs one more fucking time, I will murder you. Slowly and intimately. Okay?”

Bucky slowly lowered his arm. “Okay,” he said, worried that she would actually follow through on her threat.

Miranda easily walked down the stairs and turned to glare at him, her arms thrown wide. “See? I am perfectly capable of going down five fucking steps on my own.”

“All right, I get it,” he threw his hands up in surrender. “I won’t be such a gentleman in the future.”

“Damn right,” Miranda said under her breath. She turned and walked through the garden to their clearing. Once there, she forced herself to relax and focus on her breathing. A few steady laps to get her blood pumping. Some stretches, a light workout to tone her muscles.

Bucky made sure that she was in his sightline the whole time, but kept a bit of distance between them. Miranda fought the urge to roll her eyes. No matter how many times she assured him that her exercise routine wouldn’t hurt the tiny little pea-sized clump of cells in her uterus, he fretted over the “baby.” It wasn’t a baby. Not yet.

To say that the tension between them on subject grew every time it came up would be an understatement. Miranda fully accepted that it was early and “things could happen.” She insisted that it wasn’t a baby yet, it was barely even a fetus. Bucky, on the other hand, was insistent that she take it easy and be careful so that something  _ doesn’t  _ happen since it was still early; and that the science didn’t matter anymore now that the whole planet knew about it. 

Miranda rolled over onto her back after she finished planking. She stared up at the blue sky, the fluffy clouds. The perfect summer sky.

“We could still do it, you know,” she said. “Leave. Should soon, if we’re gonna. I’ll start showing in a few weeks.”

“Are you going to fight your way out?” Bucky asked. He offered a hand to help her to her feet, which she accepted. “‘Cause we both know that will end in failure.”

“Leave at night and slip out during a shift change,” Miranda countered. “Security will be at a low tomorrow since most of council is going to wherever the fuck Baron Von Strucker is from to see the progress he’s made with his project.”

“Do you know anything about his project?”

“Not much. All I know for sure is that if the council approves, he’ll move on to human trials.” She brushed the dirt off her pants.

Bucky winced. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Miranda shook her head. “No, it doesn’t.” In truth, she knew that it was connected to Project Changeling. Hydra wanted to eliminate mutants, considered them “impure” humans or something; but Hydra also wasn’t about to turn down an army of powerful weapons. They hadn’t before aliens were real, and seemed to have doubled down on the whole “super army” thing since. (The several other nations had too, but that was beside the point.) Telling Bucky that wouldn’t help convince him to leave though. So she didn’t. Ignorance is bliss or something like that.

“We’re still not leaving,” Bucky said.

“And you’re still boring,” Miranda said and moved to kick him in the side. Bucky raised his hand to block her, but Miranda saw it coming and shifted her hips to kick with her other leg. The switch worked, she kicked him, but she forgot to counter in the fact that his arm was made of metal. “Ah, fuck!” She hopped on her good foot. “Oh, motherfucker,” she hissed between her teeth. “No, no.” She held up a finger. “You do  _ not  _ get to pity me for being an idiot.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I don’t pity you for being an idiot. I’m worried you fractured your foot.”

Miranda slowly put weight on her foot. It was tender, but she’d be fine. “I didn’t, so.”

“Not this time, anyway.”

“Shut up,” Miranda grumbled. She crossed her arms. “I don’t need or want to be babied.”

“I would have teased you about that anyway. That was stupid,” Bucky said. He loosened his stance, dropped his shoulders. Nonthreatening. “And stop acting like a kid.”

“Stop treating me like one.”

“Real mature.”

Miranda rolled her eyes and mockingly mimicked him, “Real mature.”

“Okay, Andy, what gives? I’m sorry I’ve been extra protective, okay?” Bucky sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. It had grown out quite a bit in the last few months and brushed his shoulders. “It’s just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And it’s easier for me to get hurt when I’m trying to,” Miranda filled in. She stared at the ground. She nodded. “Yeah. I’m making your job harder.” She met his gaze. “Shame I don’t give a fuck what happens to me.” Miranda strode passed him, out of the clearing. On the other side of the bushes, she broke into a sprint.

He could track her, sure, and he would. But for now, she was alone. A moment to breathe, to bask in the quiet of open nature.

Miranda stayed off the paths and ran into the woods that surrounded the gardens. A few acres of forest to get lost in. She leapt over a fallen log. Went the long way around some wildflowers to avoid leaving an obvious trail. Ran and ran and ran until she found herself on a rocky outcrop. In the distance, she could see Versailles rise up from the surrounding area. Miranda sat there and watched the sun rise higher in the sky. She should leave. Go back so she wouldn’t be late for the council meeting. But she couldn’t find it in herself to move.

Until she thought about what she had done. She hadn’t slipped away from a guard, away from Versailles. She had quite literally run away from  _ Bucky _ , who was little more than a thing in Hydra’s eyes. A weapon, a tool, that had failed in its mission to keep an eye on her.

Miranda got to her feet and bolted back towards the palace. The trees seemed to stretch on forever — how far away was she? How long had she been gone? She couldn’t breathe. She tripped over her own feet and landed hard. Sticks and dirt ground into her skin as she slid.

Miranda pushed to her feet and quickly brushed off the bigger pieces of debris that stuck to her arm. She took off again without so much as glancing at it. She’d fucked up, she’d fucked up so bad and Bucky was going to pay for it.

They might wipe him. Turn him back into a blank, lifeless slate. They might not think it was worth it to wipe him. They might find it easier to kill him.

Miranda nearly tripped again, but she regained her footing. She broke through the treeline a moment later. She sprinted through the gardens, searching wildly for Bucky. Her heart pounded against her ribcage like it was trying to break free; it was in her throat and choked her. She wanted to call out for him, shout his name as she barreled through the empty grottos, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t make a scene. If there was even a chance that Hydra didn’t know yet — Miranda skid to a stop as she rounded the corner to the path that ran along their clearing. There was no one to be seen, no one at all.

“It’s fine, he’s fine,” she said to herself. Miranda tried to breathe. “You have psychic tracking abilities, you just have to calm down enough to use them.” She closed her eyes and focused. It was difficult. Her thoughts raced. They jumped from her search to Bucky’s memories of the Chair to the ache in her chest to regret that she never made him laugh often enough to memories of how blank, how empty he had been when they first met. To how Bucky felt like falling in love. How she always felt that way around him, had become addicted to the feeling. The swooping sensation in her stomach when he looked at her. The quiet contentment that sank into her bones when they sat down at the end of the day to just  _ talk _ , about everything and nothing. The way that seeing him relax and joke with her made her feel warm and fuzzy inside because around each other they were  _ safe _ . There was no double-dealing and secrets. They didn’t have to think three, four, five steps ahead in a conversation just to survive.

And she’d run away. She’d run away and he was going to be dead or worse because she threw a tantrum. Miranda felt her soul crumple into a tiny ball.

“I killed my best friend,” she whispered, though she wanted to shout it to the heavens, accuse God or whoever was up there; scream and demand that, after everything he’d been through, Bucky should get a better ending than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miranda:  
> 


	14. Calculated Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Miranda find Bucky? Can she achieve her dream of escape? Things are looking bleak and her own temper ruins her chances until an unknown ally lends a hand.
> 
> AKA, The continued adventures of Miranda being really bad at math.

Miranda’s hands shook as she tried to calm herself. The sun was still rising higher in the sky — it was nearing mid-morning, now. She was late for the council meeting — maybe she missed it entirely. It didn’t matter. She had to find Bucky. To do that, she needed to calm down.

She took a few shaky breaths and closed her eyes. The pounding of her heart receded. Miranda knew in her gut that Bucky was nearby, he just  _ had  _ to be, though she couldn’t find him. Another deep breath and she felt something tug in her gut as warmth radiated outwards from the gem on her wrist.

There, barely a hundred yards away. He was in the forest, near the wildflowers that she had run the long way around. Miranda’s eyes flew open. She moved to run to him, her heart full to bursting with relief. He wasn’t in trouble yet.

“Miranda?” she heard from her right. Miranda froze and turned to see Loki twenty feet away on the garden path. “What happened?” he asked as he strode towards her.

Miranda looked down at her arm and paled. Dirt and blood were smeared over her skin. One small gash still dripped steadily from her shoulder. “I, uh,” she stammered.

Loki grabbed her hand and bicep, gently turning her arm to fully inspect her wounds. He murmured something under his breath that sounded ancient and sent a shiver down Miranda’s spine. The cuts on her arm stitched themselves together. All she felt was a pinprick of warmth as they closed.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“I fell,” she said, “while I was running.”

He raised an eyebrow. It was the truth, but it wasn’t the full story. “And where is your Soldier?”

“Nearby,” Miranda said. “I accidentally got separated from him.”

“Did you now.” He dropped her arm. “For almost three hours?”

“No, not that long. I wanted to go for a hike in the woods, and we lost track of time, and then we got separated. I tried to jump over a log and I fell,” she said. Miranda looked him in the eye.

Loki nodded. “Well, we should go find your Soldier. I am sure he is worried.” He strode off in Bucky’s direction. After a moment, Miranda followed.

They strode through the trees as side-by-side as much as they were able. Miranda scanned their surroundings for Bucky. Up ahead, she saw him push past a bush. She broke into a run and shouted to get his attention: “Bucky!” Bucky turned around and ran towards her as soon as he saw her. As he got closer, Miranda saw the small leaves stuck to his t-shirt, the dirt on his sweatpants.

“I’m so sorry,” she said when they met halfway. She started to look him over for injuries like he was the one that had gone on a mad dash through the forest without a care.

“It’s fine — you’re hurt,” Bucky said.

She shook her head. “I’m fine, Loki healed —”

A bolt of gold light buzzed through the air and hit Bucky’s shoulder. He jerked backward from the impact, then straightened, pulled taught by an unseen force. His arms hung limply by his sides.

Miranda whirled around, her own bolt of energy zipped through the air towards wherever the attack had come from. The black bolt left a trail of iridescent sparks behind it that hung briefly in the air before they faded away.

Loki batted the bolt aside.

“What are you doing?” she asked. She glanced back at Bucky, at his too-tight stance. Then she turned to fully face Loki, her hands curled into fists as electricity began to crackle up her arms. “Let him go.”

“I had my suspicions,” Loki said as he sauntered towards her, “but I did not know until today.”

“About what?” Miranda steadied herself, prepared to strike.

“He cares for you. You care for him,” Loki said conversationally.

“He’s my friend.”

Loki paused about twenty feet away. “Oh, I think he’s more than that.”

Miranda raised her fists and released the pent up electricity towards him. The bolts tore through the illusion and collided with a tree behind it. The tree exploded with a loud crack as splinters went flying. Miranda was knocked back, and she felt bits of wood slam into her. She coughed and rolled to her front. Miranda pushed to her feet and closed her eyes. With a moment’s concentration, she found him.

Miranda reached out and made a grabbing motion in the air. She felt a tug, then a snap. She didn’t have a grip on him. “Come out and  _ face me _ !” she yelled.

The air stilled as the reverberations of the explosion faded. Miranda’s yell echoed through the trees. For a few tense moments, all Miranda could hear was her own heavy breathing. Then, a twig snapped. Miranda whirled to face the noise, her fists raised in front of her as she fell into a boxer’s stance.

Loki stepped out from behind a tree, the golden-green shimmer of whatever had hidden him from her sight flickered away as he walked. His hands were held up in a gesture of surrender.

Miranda relaxed her stance, though she kept her fists tight.

Loki snapped his fingers. Behind her, Bucky slumped to the ground. Miranda scrambled over to him and cradled his head in her lap.

“He’ll wake soon,” Loki said.

Miranda didn’t respond. She pressed her fingers against Bucky’s throat to feel his pulse. It beat steadily against her fingertips.

“Are you all right? Is the ba—”

“The baby is fine,” she snapped. Miranda glared at him. “But if you keep asking me stupid questions, you won’t be.”

Loki kept his distance. “You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Then maybe you’ll stop underestimating me,” she said.

“I now know that you’re capable of defending yourself,” he gestured back towards the exploded tree, “and have justification for removing your personal guard.”

“What?”

“His skill set is needed. I was hesitant to take him from your side, but I think you’ll manage without him. And your enemies are here, are they not?”

“You’re reassigning him?” she asked slowly. Miranda hoped she had heard him wrong — surely he wouldn’t hand Bucky back over to Hydra.

“Only temporarily,” Loki answered. He held a hand out to her. He meant for her to take it, to leave Bucky on the ground, and wait while Hydra agents came to collect him. The agents were already on their way, drawn to the loud boom.

Miranda looked down at Bucky. She couldn’t,  _ wouldn’t _ , hand him over. And that meant she would have to fight to protect him. Slowly, Miranda lifted Bucky’s head from her lap and set it down as she rose to her feet. She stood over him and stared Loki down. Electricity crackled around her fists.

“I don’t wanna fight you,” she said, “but I can’t let you do that.”

Loki lowered his hand, a sad grin on his face. “Oh, I think you will.”

Miranda blinked as a warm sensation curled in her chest.  _ Don’t hurt him _ , it whispered, _ go to him. You can trust him _ . Her fists loosened. The electricity sparked and faded.

“Come,” Loki beckoned.

Miranda felt her right foot step forward. Then her left. Slowly, she shuffled forward until she was close enough for Loki to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

Three Hydra guards appeared and looked around at the scene they walked into. Two went over and hauled Bucky to his feet. They slung his arms over their shoulders and began to drag him back the way they came.

Miranda tried to step out of Loki’s arms to help him, but he tightened his grip on her.

“Let them go,” he said. “Stay close to me.”

Miranda melted back into him. Her mind felt distant even though it screamed at her to go help Bucky. Her memory all-too-clearly recalled all the horrible things Hydra had done to him. She couldn’t let that happen again but  _ she couldn’t move _ . Miranda felt tears run down her face. She had done everything she could to never feel this helpless again, yet here she was. Completely helpless while her best friend had to face horrors all alone.

Miranda buried her face in Loki’s torso. She couldn’t watch.

Loki swept Miranda off her feet and carried her, bridal-style, back to the palace. She barely noticed, lost in the jostle of his motions and the scent of his cologne. That cologne had been a comfort more than once over the past year, and somehow it still was. Sage, pine — the first chill of winter. She curled closer to him.

There was a bath waiting for her in her rooms. Loki set her down on a stool.

“Take a bath. We’ll talk once you’ve cleaned up.”

Miranda nodded, though she didn’t move until he had left the room. Miranda winced as she lifted her shirt over her head. In the full-length mirror in the corner, she saw the beginning of an impressive bruise marbled over her back and arms. In the small washbasin, Miranda used a rag to wipe off most of the dirt and blood from her arms. She pulled her hair out of its braid and brushed it. Miranda used her fingers to pull out the few leaves and twigs that had gotten caught in her hair. Then, she pulled off the rest of her clothes and stepped into the large brass tub and sank into the warm water.

After a moment, she picked up the washcloth that had been left next to the soaps on a small side table. As she rubbed a lemon-lavender bar of soap against the cloth, Miranda felt the warm sensation from the forest let go of her consciousness and slither away. Her hands froze mid-motion.

Loki had magically charmed her.

Miranda leaned back against the edge of the tub. Absently, she rubbed the cloth over her shoulders, still compelled to finish cleaning herself up. As she washed, her shock turned to disbelief turned to hurt turned to anger. The lamps in the room flickered and dimmed.

He had charmed her and forced her to leave Bucky undefended.

The sudsy water shoshed as Miranda rose out the tub. She carefully stepped out and grabbed the towel from the nearby bench. As she dried herself, she made a plan. She couldn’t hurt Loki, too afraid of what Hydra would do to her without the protection of his affections (provided she still held them). No, she couldn’t hurt him physically. But she held his heart and some measure of his trust, and that was weapon enough. It had to be.

*****

Miranda pulled her hair back into a tight bun that she secured with a hairpin made of bronze and black walnut wood. She found a sleeveless red silk blouse amongst her clothes and a pair of black pants. She wished she had a pair of combat boots at her disposal, but the pair of shoes she had for her dance lessons would have to do. The supple leather was practically molded to her feet. She knew she could move easily in them. After affixing a pair of bronze-colored earrings to her ears, Miranda dabbed a bit of perfume to her wrists and rubbed them below her ears. It was a soft scent: sandalwood with hints of vanilla.

Her hand hovered over her makeup case for a moment. With a sigh, she unclasped the case and pulled out various bits of makeup. Quickly, she applied dark makeup around her eyes, the wings of her eyeliner sharp enough to cut. She found a red lipstick that she knew to be particularly seductive on her.

It was all a distraction, but there was no shame in amping it up.

Miranda put everything away in the case and walked over to the panel in the wall that hid the passages. She pulled on the molding to open it, but the door didn’t budge. She tried again. It was old, perhaps it was sticking in the summer heat. Nothing.

Miranda hurried over to the main door to her rooms and twisted the door handle. It barely dipped down before it clicked and refused to go further. Locked. She ran to the other exits. All of them were locked. Miranda ground her teeth.

The rational part of her knew that it was warranted since she had attacked Loki. Some might call the action treasonous. Most of her, however, boiled hot with rage. She clenched her fists, a wave of energy rocketed out from her. A nearby chair tipped over, a small table crashed onto its side. The vase fell to the floor and shattered.

*****

A guard brought her lunch and said nothing about the shattered vase or the overturned furniture. That was hours ago, now, and Miranda had barely touched the food. She stood on the small balcony and looked around. The pillars of the balcony’s fencing were sturdy, though the fencing itself wobbled. Miranda doubted it could hold her weight if she tied anything to it to lower herself to the ground. She could risk the jump, she supposed, but if something went wrong, that would be where her jailbreak ended.

The main doors to her rooms opened, then closed. Miranda turned her gaze out over the gardens. There were more security patrols now. It’d be hard to sneak by unnoticed. But it was early. Things would calm down in a few days.

Miranda turned to face Loki. “Am I under arrest?”

“Not yet,” he said coolly. “But Hydra is insistent.”

“I did attack you.” Miranda walked back into the room and closed the balcony doors. “On purpose, even. And I will again, if provoked.”

“Then I won’t provoke you.”

Miranda eyed him warily. “Where is he?”

“In safe hands. His handler is briefing him for his mission.” Loki wandered over to the small couch and picked up a discarded book on politics. He absently flipped through the pages. “Remind me, what was it you called him this morning? ‘Bucky?’”

Miranda glanced around the room for something, anything, that she could use to attack or defend with. Her eyes snapped to Loki the moment “Bucky” left his lips.

“I hadn’t realized he had a name,” Loki said. He set the book down. “Though I am not the only one who noticed that you were attached to each other.”

“If you’re accusing me of something, just say it.”

Loki looked at her. “Is it his?”

Miranda balked. “How can you even ask me that?” She shook her head. “No. It’s yours.”

Loki sighed. He didn’t believe her.

“He’s my friend, and Hydra will kill him now that they have him.  _ That’s  _ why I’m protecting him. Please, you can’t let Hydra near him. He’s only a weapon to them, not a person.”

Something in that resonated with Loki, Miranda was sure of it. His stance softened, no longer accusatory. His shoulders curled in, and for a brief moment, Miranda thought she saw something in his face, a flicker of renewed betrayal. Not from her — no, it was older than that, but still fresh, still deep. Then she remembered what Loki had told her about why Odin took him from Jotunheim.

“You have a chance to be a better king than him. Here, now,” Miranda said. “Just let him go. You don’t even have to return him as my bodyguard. You’d never have to see him again if you let him go, just please —”

“Enough,” Loki said. He held up a hand and Miranda clamped her mouth shut. “What would you do in return?”

Miranda scrambled for something that was enough. “I’ll…” She sighed and nervously checked the placement of the com unit around her ear. “I’ll cease all contact with the Avengers.”

Loki considered it for a moment. “No, you won’t,” he said, one liar to another.

“Then what do you want? What is one man’s life worth to you?”

“I think the question is, what is it worth to  _ you _ ,” Loki said. He grinned. “Your own freedom in the balance and you bargain for one man.”

“You’re only jealous because you know no one would do this for you,” Miranda retorted. She rubbed her foot against the floor to get a sense of the traction her shoes had.

“Are you so quick to devolve to base insults?”

“Maybe,” Miranda said and launched herself at him. She ran forward and leapt up to kick him, but her foot passed through him like he was made of mist. Unable to counter, Miranda landed on the side of her foot. Her ankle popped, pain zinged up her leg and through her torso. She landed hard on the floor. A few of the not-quite-healed cuts on her arm stung and tore back open. Miranda curled in on herself and groaned.

Loki sighed like he had expected as much. “At least I finally met the real you,” he said.

Miranda glared over her shoulder towards the illusion, but it was already gone. Only a faint greenish shimmer remained.

*****

Six guards accompanied the doctor every time he came to her rooms; four more waited outside each door at all times. There was a pair on patrol on the ground near her windows. Another waited just on the other side of the panel hiding her access to the secret passages. Shift changes were staggered and not on regular hours. One day shifts were six hours, then nine, then seven and a half. The only consistency was that shifts were never longer than ten hours.

It’d been that way for over four weeks now. The doctor came in, the guards helped haul whatever equipment the doctor needed. Today it was equipment for an ultrasound. It would be the second of this pregnancy so far, and Miranda knew it was far from the last. Hydra wanted to document as much of it as possible, and now that she was locked in her rooms it was that much easier to observe the growth of an unborn demigod.

Miranda wordlessly went over the couch and laid down. She pulled her shirt up over her stomach. Throughout the whole process, she stared at the ceiling. Miranda didn’t move after they left, only absently rubbed over her skin that was still sticky from the jelly.

“You and me are gonna get outta here,” Miranda promised. “I don’t know how, but we will.” Outside, the first roll of thunder announced the coming rain before it began to pour down and beat against the windows.

There was a thump, then the slide of a body down the wall in the passage. Miranda bolted upright. She slowly made her way over to the passage and grabbed a candlestick on her way. She held it at the ready as whoever it was on the other side ripped through the makeshift block to prevent the door from opening. Miranda couldn’t sense whoever it was. It was like there was an empty space where they should be, but Miranda was unable to fill it.

The door slowly creaked open to reveal a young woman who couldn’t have been older than Miranda. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, her eyes a friendly pale blue. The woman wore dark clothes that looked similar to what the guards wore at a glance but instead of the red tentacles and skull of Hydra on her shoulder, the patch was a white ‘A’ with a circle around it. She didn’t seem surprised to see Miranda wielding a candlestick like a mace — rather, she  _ smiled _ like everything was going according to plan.

“You should head for the treeline,” the woman said. She stepped aside to hold the panel open for Miranda. “The Avengers are on their way.”

Miranda slowly lowered the candlestick. She eyed the woman warily, but for some reason she trusted her. Maybe it was the unconscious Hydra guard.

Miranda nodded, then hurried over to her wardrobe and tugged on a pair of sneakers and a dark jacket. The woman waited for her and glanced down the passageway every few seconds. Time was precious.

The woman lead Miranda through the passages. After a quick peek into the room, the woman stood aside and repeated her instruction to head for the trees.

“Thank you,” Miranda said. “I owe you my life.”

She smiled, the owner of a secret. “We’ll meet again someday. But you should go. The shift change only buys you two more minutes, max.”

Miranda nodded and stepped out into the room as she pulled her hood up. The panel closed behind her, but she didn’t wait for it before she scurried across the room and pushed through the door to the outside. Miranda held the door to close it quietly, but once it latched, Miranda turned and sprinted across the gardens through the heavy rain.

Gravel crunched under her feet. She ran in as much of a straight line as she could until she hit a shrubbery. She leapt over it and hit the ground. The gravel bit into her palms but she held still as the guard wandering the garden passed by. Miranda crept forward slowly, careful not to make a sound. Once they were far enough away, Miranda took off again.

The moment Miranda stepped under the protective cover of the trees, she felt a weight slide of her shoulders. She kept running but no longer pushed herself at a breakneck pace. Miranda pushed her hood down. Rain pasted her hair to her face and neck. She kept her eyes and mind on a swivel, on the lookout for the Avengers the woman had promised would be there. She ran in their direction. Mud squelched under her feet.

Out of nowhere, an arrow embedded itself in the tree beside her. Miranda slid slightly in the mud as she stopped. She held her hands up above her head.

“I’m unarmed!” she shouted over the rain and thunder. Her eyes darted to each of their hiding places, though she looked towards the archer in the trees the longest. A purple and black marbled orb that smelled like stale coffee.

Bloodred over a soft, welcoming shade of pink. Gunsmoke over inside jokes with friends. Natasha stepped out from behind a tree, the closest to Miranda. Clint dropped down from the tree; mud splattered as he landed. He groaned and shook mud off his shoes.

“My name is Miranda Douglas and I willingly turn myself over to the Avengers,” Miranda said. She licked her lips to seperate them. “I seek asylum.”

Natasha slowly lowered her gun, but she didn’t put it away. She pressed a finger to her ear. “Widow and Hawkeye have Liberty. Escorting her to base, over.”

Miranda smiled wide enough to ache. She was free.


	15. New Allies, New Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now in the care and protection of SHIELD and the Avengers, Miranda looks to the future and stars to make her next move.

Miranda paced back and forth inside the tent. On the edge of her consciousness, she could feel the battle in Versailles. The soft pop of gunfire reached her ears. Outside the tent, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents ran back and forth as they carried out their orders. She heard a medic shout instructions as another truck full of wounded arrived. There was a break in the storm, and in that stillness, the battle replaced that chaos.

Miranda sat down on one of the chairs and pushed her damp hair back off her face. She wasn’t arrested, per se, but she wasn’t sure that she would be allowed to leave the tent. She’d probably only get in the way even if she did.

One of the tent flaps got pulled back. Director Fury stepped into the tent, Agent Hill just a few steps behind. Miranda rose to her feet.

“Director Fury,” Miranda said with a sharp nod, “Agent Hill.”

“Ms. Douglas,” Agent Hill said as she crossed her arms, “would you mind telling us how you escaped? Our intelligence said you were under heavy guard.”

“I was. A… a young woman helped me. She didn’t give me a name, but she had a patch on her shoulder —” Miranda gestured on herself where the patch was “— that was a white ‘A’ in a circle.”

They exchanged a look, then Fury pulled a jacket out of the footlocker at the end of one of the bunks. “Did it look like this?” he asked and showed her the patch on the jacket’s shoulder.

Miranda nodded.

“That’s the symbol for the Avengers,” he explained. “What did she look like?”

Miranda told them. She answered all of their questions and ended up repeating herself multiple times. There wasn’t much information to give about the woman and after an hour of talking in circles, Fury turned to Hill and instructed her to arrange transport for Miranda to “Eagle’s Nest.”

In the distance, the battle had slowed to a stop. Miranda straightened, her spine pulled taut, and looked towards the approaching truck as though she could see it through the tent fabric. She stepped past Fury and Hill, neither of them stopped her. Outside the tent, everything was still wet from the rain; a damp chill permeated the air. The truck rolled through the camp. As it passed by, Miranda stared in the back at Loki. He was handcuffed and muzzled, guarded on either side by Thor and Captain America. He didn’t seem surprised to see her there.

Miranda glanced skyward as an Ironman suit began to land nearby. Once he was on the ground, Tony Stark stepped out of the armor and walked forward, hand extended. Miranda shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” he said.

“You as well. I suppose I should thank you for trusting me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said and clapped his hand on her shoulder as he walked away. The armor closed up and followed behind him.

“That’s mildly terrifying,” Miranda said to herself. She turned and ducked back inside the tent. Agent Hill had already left to make arrangements, but Director Fury seemed to have a few more questions. Miranda sighed. “I’m not giving you my whole story here.”

“And why’s that?” He pushed his coat out of the way to place his hands on his hips.

“Because the Avengers have a right to hear it from me since I’ve been in some semblance of communication with them for about a year, and I don’t trust you to tell them the full story.”

“If I might ask, Ms. Douglas, what gives you that idea?”

“Show me a spy that doesn’t compartmentalize information,” she said coolly. “The Avengers will be present or I’m not giving a statement. And before you ask, I know you think you don’t need it because of the statement I gave to Wakanda. But that was months ago.”

“It’s still sufficient,” Fury said. “But on this occasion, I will concede. I know the team will eventually ask you questions anyway. Better for all involved to do it once and get it over with.”

“Then lead the way,” Miranda said.

An hour later, Miranda was curled up as possible on a folding chair with a cup of mint tea in her hands. The Avengers, Director Fury, and Agent Hill were scattered around the room of the temporary base, either standing or on chairs themselves. Everyone was tired.

Miranda glanced down at the recorder on the floor in front of her and wondered if she should ask to put it off so the Avengers could get some rest. Clint was practically asleep. He had flipped his chair around and crossed his arms over the back of it. His eyes took longer and longer to open. Natasha elbowed him and he jerked upright with a small “Huh?”

Miranda licked her lips. “Where should I start?”

“Where ever it feels right,” Steve said.

Miranda nodded and swallowed, her throat tight. She wasn’t sure why this was so difficult — when she had given her statement to T’Challa, it had felt the words wouldn’t stop. They had tumbled out of her. But now there was nothing. She took a sip of her tea.

“I suppose…” She licked her lips again. “I’ll start after I left the  _ Liberté _ .” Slowly, the words came to her. Miranda relayed everything she could remember, or at least made it seem that way. She left out any information about Thanos or the Infinity Stones. Miranda wasn’t quite sure why, but she felt like S.H.I.E.L.D. shouldn’t know. The Avengers, yes, but not S.H.I.E.L.D. For the same reasons, she decided to keep her mutation to herself. Sharing any of the cards up her sleeve felt like a fatal move.

Miranda paused for a moment before she told them about what happened after she got shot. How she woke up in some bunker somewhere and they pumped her full of a serum that changed her. Her mouth tasted bitter.

Natasha and Steve both had a knowing look in their eyes.

Miranda kept going until she caught up to where they were. By the end of it, she’d been talking for just over two hours. Her mug of tea was empty, but she kept fiddling with it in her hands. “When, uh, when was my statement released?”

“Wakanda released it to us after you were shot. The public didn’t see it until you were arrested a month ago,” Natasha said.

Miranda nodded. It fit with her instructions, she supposed. She scratched the side of the mug. “Is my uncle here? I’d like to talk to him if that’s allowed.”

The silence hung heavy in the room. No one wanted to meet her eye. But Steve did, after a tense moment.

“Ms. Douglas,” he began gently, “Agent Coulson died in the line of duty before the attack in Manhattan last year. The first one.”

Miranda’s throat contracted. “Before… oh,” she said. “That explains why he never returned my calls.” She pressed her lips together and picked at the inner seam of her leggings. “Is there anything else I should know?”

They all glanced around at the rest of the group.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Natasha said.

Miranda nodded. “Then if you don’t mind, I’d like to go rest.”

Understanding nods rippled through the group. Natasha volunteered to walk Miranda back to the tent she had been in earlier. They walked in silence. The storm had blown past, but there were still puddles everywhere and the ground was soft and squelched beneath their feet. Outside the tent, Natasha paused. Miranda waited for her to speak.

“Coulson was private, but he mentioned you once,” Natasha said. “He said you helped him with his car. I didn’t think he’d ever let anyone touch it.”

“Oh,” Miranda said, “he didn’t. I just handed him tools and helped him pick the name.”

“He was a good man.”

Miranda hummed. “Can I… can I ask how he died?”

“He was stabbed through the chest,” Natasha said after a moment. “By Loki.”

Miranda chewed the inside of her cheek. “Great,” she said tightly as she ducked into the tent. After a moment, she heard Natasha leave.

*****

Miranda didn’t sleep much that night. Early the next morning, before the sun had even begun to peak over the horizon, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent lead her to a quinjet. Onboard, Clint and Natasha were making final preparations for their fight.

“You’re flying me?” Miranda asked.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder for a moment before she refocused on the control panel in front of her. “It’s just us. The rest of the team is hanging back.”

Miranda nodded. “But… why?”

“Frankly,” Clint said, “we don’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D. The way we see it, something had to have gone wrong for Hydra to grow in it like it did, and there’s no telling how deep it went.”

“And I’m high priority for everyone these days.” Miranda sat in a seat near the cockpit and started to strap herself in. “When did you know about Hydra?”

“That transmission you sent Stark was the first we knew for sure,” Clint said. “Before that everyone thought they were mind-controlled.”

“This is Widow requesting permission for take-off. Cargo is secure,” Natasha said into her headset. The go-ahead came a moment later and the pair of them began to run through take-off procedure.

Miranda tightened the straps. “Mind-controlled? I don’t think I saw anyone like that.”

“All it takes to knock them out of it is a little cognitive recalibration,” Natasha said.

Clint smiled and shook his head. The quinjet lurched as they left the ground.

“How were they mind-controlled?” Miranda asked.

“Loki had a scepter. We’re not entirely sure how it worked but that’s what he used to control people.”

Miranda turned her wrist over and stared at the Infinity stone. “Did it have a blue crystal?” They both turned to stare at her. “If it makes you feel any better, Hydra doesn’t have it. Loki destroyed it,” she said.

“Somehow, no, not really,” Clint said. No one else said anything for a few minutes as they reached altitude. Once they were high enough, they switched over to auto-pilot. Clint and Nat unbuckled and turned around in their seats.

Miranda unbuckled herself but didn’t move. She watched them move about the cabin for a moment. “Where are we going, exactly?”

“Our main base,” Natasha said. She pulled three silver packages out from a compartment. “That’s all you really need to know.” She tossed the packages onto one of the crates as Clint pulled up a few smaller ones.

Miranda found a third and lugged it over. They all sat around the crate. Natasha handed each of them a silver package.

“They're not great but it’s food,” Natasha said. After a moment, once they had all torn through the wrapping, she continued, “You left things out last night.”

“Only what S.H.I.E.L.D. shouldn’t know,” Miranda said. She didn’t shy from Natasha’s accusing gaze. “You just said yourself that you don’t trust them. Do you really expect me to?”

“I’m just curious to know what you’re hiding.”

“Nat,” Clint said.

Miranda waved him off. “Let her. I’ve been accused of worse than keeping secrets.” She paused. “I don’t have to tell you any more than I already have. But I want to. I just wanna make sure I can trust you first.”

Natasha and Clint exchanged a look. Clint sighed, leaned forward over his rations, and said, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll pay up later.”

“I take it you two are close,” Miranda said as she tore into her packet of almonds.

“We were partners for years before the Avengers,” Clint said.

Cautiously, Miranda prodded for more information. It was easy to get Clint to talk and soon he shared stories of their adventures (with any confidential information withheld). Natasha chimed in once in a while, then suddenly added her own story. From there the conversation turned to stories they had about Coulson, the one person they all knew but knew very different sides of. Gradually, they all relaxed and began to share more with the group. Miranda’s memories of her uncle were entangled with her childhood, and by the time the autopilot chimed to alert them that they were near their destination, they knew more about her than any file could have told them. Miranda trusted them.

Once they landed, Miranda got swept away and taken to the medical wing of Eagle’s Nest. The building itself was partially under construction. The bare bones of it seemed to be a warehouse, though now it was open, airy, and high windows let in an abundance of natural light. It was cold in a modern-esque way: concrete, steel, and glass were the most common materials. The medical wing was sterile with bright lights. It felt as lifeless as any other area she had seen so far, but it was also the most put together. It was clear that they had built this first before they moved on to the rest of the structure.

Miranda waited patiently as a pair of nurses fussed over her. The paper under her legs crinkled when she shifted; the light overhead buzzed so quietly Miranda figured she was the only one who could hear it. They took her blood pressure, listened to her heart and lungs, checked her reflexes, had her sit at a table and complete a hearing test, read off letters for a vision test. In a different room, she laid back and stared at the crisp white ceiling as they did an ultrasound.

The nurse moved the wand around. “Everything seems to be in perfect shape, Ms. Douglas,” she said. “Your baby is healthy.”

“Great,” Miranda said. She didn’t take her eyes off the ceiling.

After the medical exam, Miranda was lead to a different part of the building. A solid door separated the two sides. The agent who had shown her around nodded stiffly before he turned on his heel and left. Miranda stared at the handle-less door and wondered if it was some kind of joke or test. On the wall was a circular blue panel. Miranda stepped closer. It was about eye-level to her. Light burst out of it and scanned her head and shoulders.

“Enter security code,” it said.

“Um,” Miranda racked her brain for a possible answer. It was clear that the agent had assumed she knew it. “Don’t get stabbed?”

“Incomplete.”

Miranda remembered the code name Natasha had used for her. “Liberty.”

“Accepted. Welcome to the Avengers Compound, Ms. Douglas.” There was a click and then the door slid open. Miranda stepped through and it slid closed behind her.

This area was much more lived in. There was art on the walls. A small table was pushed up against the wall in the hallway. An orchid sat in a bowl on the table, flanked by empty white vases that were twisted geometric shapes. At the end of the short hallway that Miranda had stepped into, it opened up into a communal space that seemed well-used. Blankets and pillows adorned the sofas and chairs, but they weren’t artistically poised. They had been mussed, used. A book rested on the glass coffee table with a magazine tucked into it to mark the page. Coasters were scattered on the various tables. The room flowed into a small kitchen that was two steps up. A coffee cup and spoon rested in the drying rack.

A few other hallways and doors broke off from this room. Miranda wasn’t sure where to go, or where she was allowed to go. She chewed her lip.

“Jarvis?” she asked the empty room.

“Yes, Ms. Douglas?” came the answer a moment later.

Miranda felt her shoulders drop. “It’s good to hear you.”

“And I am relieved to see that you are well,” Jarvis said. “Is there some way I can be of assistance?”

“Um, is there somewhere I can go to clean up? And maybe get a change of clothes.” Miranda picked at her shirt. It was getting uncomfortable to still be in them even though they had dried from the rain ages ago.

“Mr. Stark arranged a room for you. If you take the hallway behind you, it will be the third door on the right.”

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Miranda said. She turned and followed his instructions to the room.

It was plain, which Miranda expected, but it was plain in the sense that it had been left as a blank slate. Light grey walls, pine furniture, white sheets. For someone just passing through.

Miranda explored the dresser and closet. Everything was her size, or just about. Most of it was maternity clothing, which was a little big since she wasn’t quite showing yet (she was swollen, yes, but she didn’t think that counted). The other door in the room lead to a reasonably sized ensuite. Miranda set her chosen outfit down on the chair and opened the cabinets until she found a towel. She tossed it on the chair. Soaps and shampoos were already in the shower; Miranda pulled the curtain closed and turned the water on to warm up as she stripped out of her clothes. She hesitated a moment before she unclasped her bracelet. She laid it on the counter next to the sink.

She forgot it there after she climbed out of the shower.

Dressed in a warm sweater dress and leggings, Miranda flopped face-first into the bed. Her damp hair fanned out around her. She shifted until she was comfortable; wormed her way under the warm covers. Sleep found her easily. And so did something else.

The sky was black, pinpricked by faraway stars. The craggy rocks seemed familiar and tugged at Miranda’s memory. A hooded figure stepped out from behind a boulder. Its breath rattled as it approached. Miranda wanted to run but she felt frozen to the spot.

The figure was now within arm’s reach. It looked down at her, faceless. “I can see you,” it said. “And now he can, too.” It pointed to its left.

Miranda looked. Her eyes followed the roughly hewn stone steps up to the top of the dais. Thanos leaned forward on his throne.

“Hello, little one.”

Miranda scrambled backward. Her feet slipped on gravel and she fell, though the ground never rose to meet her. The throne and its island grew faint as Miranda fell through nothing. Weightless, she reached out in vain for something to hold onto as the void swallowed her.

She woke with a jolt. Her hair blocked out most of the light; though she could smell the clean sheets. From the direction of the common area, she heard shouts.

“Nat, the breaker blew!”

“What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!”

Miranda pushed herself up and flopped sideways into a sitting position. She shook her head, still sleep-dazed. Something squeezed painfully at her heart. As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, she padded back to the bathroom to retrieve her bracelet. As she clasped it, she glanced up at the ceiling, “Jarvis, is there a soldering kit nearby?”

“I believe there is a soldering iron in Mr. Stark’s workshop.”

“Do you think he’d mind if I use it?”

“Might I ask why you require a soldering iron, Ms. Douglas?”

“Nevermind.” Miranda shook her head. She found a hair tie in one of the drawers and quickly pulled her hair back in a haphazard bun before she made her way back to the common area.

Natasha tapped away on a tablet, curled up on one of the couches. Clint nursed an entire pot of coffee at the kitchen island as he scrolled through something on a tablet of his own. Miranda hovered in the entryway. Natasha noticed her first.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Miranda said. Then, “Bad dream, that’s all.”

“We’ve been there,” Clint said. He took a swig from the coffee pot.

Miranda walked towards the small kitchen. “Are you guys hungry? I had thought about cooking something.” They both admitted they were. Natasha came up and helped Miranda pull ingredients and cook. She also shooed Clint away when he tried to help with a quick warning to Miranda:

“He burns everything but coffee and pizza.”

Miranda chuckled as she mixed up a simple syrup. There wasn’t much in the kitchen, so it was pancakes and sausage on the menu. Miranda pulled out a few different kinds of berries and cleaned them to make a fresh fruit topping. As she cooked and chatted with Clint and Natashsa, Miranda felt herself relax slightly, though her dream — vision? — curled like a distant storm at the edge of her mind.

After they ate, Miranda asked if she could borrow a computer with the intention of looking at the news from the past year. Her access had been restricted at best, nonexistent at worst. They had a brief conversation in sign language before Clint conceded, though Natasha warned her that she might not like what she found. Miranda said she was prepared for that. Which was how she ended up sitting at the desk in her room with over twenty tabs open at two in the morning.

Miranda sat back and rubbed her eyes. The call of sleep wrapped around her limbs and pulled her gently towards the bed, but Miranda didn’t get up from the chair. There was still so much to read, to learn. She hadn’t dared to Google her own name yet. She’d come up often enough without a specific search.

She sighed and pushed back. It was difficult to open her eyes, so she may as well pass out on the bed rather than in the chair. Miranda crawled under the sheets and laid down. Her last conscious thought was a prayer that she wouldn’t dream about anything or anyone.

*****

The next few days were a blur of news articles, debriefs, counseling sessions, and fresh waves of grief. Miranda inquired about her friends, both from before and after her capture. Most were fine, or close to it, but there were a few who had died. There was some quiet solace in knowing that they had died fighting. A draft of an email sat in Miranda’s account but she couldn’t find the courage to hit send. She wasn’t sure Maria would want to hear from her anyway.

Her parents, though; her parents were overjoyed to hear from her. With the borrowed laptop balanced on the bed, Miranda leaned against the headboard as they chatted for hours in a video call.

“And, before I get too excited, dear, how do you feel about the… you know,” her mom said.

Miranda took a deep breath. “Now that I’m no longer surrounded by Nazis? Better. Better but not… not confident.”

“We’ll support you no matter what you decide.” She sighed. “But we shouldn’t talk too much about that. It’s too heavy.”

Her dad nodded. “We’re just glad to see you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Miranda said. “Me, too. It’s been a long year and a half.” After the call, there was a knock at her door. “Enter,” Miranda called as she closed the laptop.

Clint popped his head in. “The others are almost back, if you wanted to come down to the landing pad. Nat said you might.”

“Yeah, actually,” Miranda said. She slid off the bed. “Are they bringing him with?” she asked as she dug around in the closet for a pair of shoes.

“Classified,” Clint said with a sympathetic smile.

Miranda nodded and pulled on a pair of sneakers. “Well, I can guess.”

 

The wind whipped around them as they watched the quinjet land. Miranda’s eyes flitted across the shape of the craft as she took in its passengers. No S.H.I.E.L.D. but he was there. The moment he stepped off the ramp, Miranda pushed past Sam and Steve, paid no mind to Thor, and slapped Loki across the face as hard as she could.

“You murdered my uncle,” she said. “I know that you will see justice and that is the only reason I let you stand.” Then she stepped aside to let them pass.

For a moment, no one moved, too stunned by what they had just witnessed. Then everything moved again as though there hadn’t been a disruption at all. They ushered Loki into the building. A moment later, Rhodey, Bruce, and Tony walked out of the quinjet.

“Good job, kid,” Tony said as he passed by with a pat on her shoulder.

Miranda chuckled. They all made their way inside; the returning Avengers peeled off to go relax and freshen up before dinner. Natasha and Miranda busied themselves in the kitchen after sending Clint to set the table. A little over an hour later, they were all gathered around the table, chatting and laughing. Miranda sat at the foot out of habit. Clint sat to her left, Rhodey to her right. Steve sat at the head of the table with Thor and Sam to either side of him. Natasha leaned on Clint. Tony seemed preoccupied with his tablet until Rhodey gently set it down for him. Bruce squeezed in next to Natasha. The table was crowded and Miranda loved every second of it, even if her mind ran overtime in an attempt to read the room.

“You know, you’re very practised at conversation,” Rhodey said.

“Well it was kind of beat into me, so.” Miranda shrugged, playful. But then the tension in the room rose just enough for the other end of the table to notice and fall quiet. Miranda took a sip of wine. Everyone knew she meant it literally. She licked her lips. “But we shouldn’t linger on it. Perhaps we can discuss something that the whole table can participate in.” She looked around the table with the calm air of a hostess. “Captain, I’ve read that you enjoy art,” she tried.

“In my free time,” Steve answered but it came slowly with the full knowledge that the question was an attempt to redirect the conversation.

“Personally I’m a fan of the Impressionists. Monet and Van Gogh are my particular favorites.” Miranda smiled primly. It didn’t reach her eyes and faltered the longer the silence stretched on.

“Ms. Douglas,” Rhodey rested his hand over hers, “I am so sorry.”

Miranda frowned. “Apology accepted, but… what for?”

“Everything you went through,” Natasha said. The sentiment was shared by the rest of the table as they all nodded minutely.

“I see,” Miranda said. She stared at her plate for a moment before back up at the rest of the table. “Well, that’s behind me now, isn’t it? Thanks to all of you,” she raised her glass, “so let us toast. To freedom.”

Her toast was quietly echoed by the rest of the table. Miranda drank a little deeper than was appropriate for a toast which set a spike of fear through her chest before she remembered that there wouldn’t be any consequences. Once everyone set their glasses back down, she rose and began to clear the table since everyone was done. Miranda set the stack of dishes in the sink and took a deep breath.

Steve set a precarious tower of cups down on the counter next to her, then carefully unstacked it. “We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. We’re very sorry if we did.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Miranda said. She turned on the water and started to rinse the plates. “I feel like I should apologize to you.” She wiped her eyes with her shoulder. “I couldn’t protect him. I tried, but… Loki’s stronger than me.” Miranda clenched her jaw.

“Most people wouldn’t go toe to toe with him.” Steve moved around her and began to load the rinsed plates into the dishwasher. “For that alone, I’m grateful.”

“Most people don’t know him like I do,” Miranda said. She glanced at her bracelet. “He trusted me a lot more than he should’ve.”

Steve nodded. “Can’t argue with that. But it worked to our advantage, right?” He grabbed a few cups and put them in the dishwasher.

“S’pose it did.” Miranda chewed her tongue for a moment. “How much of Hydra were you able to take down?”

Steve sighed. “Not enough.”

Miranda nodded and turned to look him in the eye. “I wanna burn them to the ground. I wanna salt the earth, I want to chase them out of their homes until there’s nowhere left to hide.”

“We’ll handle it,” Steve assured her.

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying I want in.”

“Ms. Douglas, with all due respect —”

Miranda summoned a fireball in her palm. “I can do that and a whole lot more. I can handle myself in a fight — Bucky trained me. You don’t have to wait for me, just promise me you’ll let me join the team when I’m ready.”

“I can’t promise that,” Steve said, “but I’m not saying ‘no’ either.”

Miranda curled her fingers in and snuffed the fireball. “I can take that.” They shook.

When they went back into the dining area, the others had started an arm wrestling tournament. From the look on Steve’s face, Miranda guessed that it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.

Clint and Sam were the opponents for the moment. It was tipped in Clint’s favor for the moment but Sam was digging in. They straightened out. Then Clint slammed Sam’s hand into the tabletop to the cheers of the rest of the team.

“Haha!” Clint cried.

“Yeah, yeah, man. I’ll get you next time,” Sam said as he got up from the table.

Natasha replaced him and almost immediately slammed Clint’s hand into the table. She let him struggle for a moment before she finished him.

Miranda slid into his seat and smiled at Natasha. “Shall we?”

Natasha smirked. “We shall.” They clasped hands.

Miranda wasn’t prepared for how intense she would be and almost lost immediately but she was able to counter before Natasha could slam her hand into the table. They were locked for a time before Miranda was able to tip it in her favor and slowly force Natasha’s hand down.

Tony sat down across from Miranda. “I didn’t think you’d join in.”

“I’m not one to pass up a test of brute strength.”

“Noted,” he said and clasped her hand.

Miranda nodded. “You’ve got a good grip, Stark.” She slammed his hand down. “Too bad it’s not enough.”

Tony rubbed his bruised knuckles. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Steve, you wanna get in there?” Sam asked.

Steve shook his head and smiled. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Aw, come on, Captain. I’m told a bruised ego heals eventually,” Miranda said. The others burst out laughing.

“Where was this wit an hour ago?” Tony said.

Steve shook his head and slowly made his way to sit down. His teammates cheered as he sat and placed his elbow on the table.

“Do you want me to go easy on you? I wouldn’t want to injure the elderly,” Miranda said. She took his hand.

“You are full of surprises,” Steve said. But so was he, it seemed, as he caught her off-guard and nearly pushed her hand to the wood.

Miranda pushed back and they remained locked for a few moments. Muscles strained, elbows ached. Slowly, then all at once, Miranda shoved Steve’s hand down. She shook her hand out. “Not bad for an old man,” she said.

“You’re just as bad as Tony.” Steve shook his head and rose from the chair.

“This is most entertaining!” Thor boomed. He sat down across from Miranda. “This shall be quite the challenge.”

“For you maybe,” Miranda said.

Thor laughed, a loud and hearty sound. It was everything she expected from the god of thunder.

He was stronger than her. She held her own and brought him back to the middle but she was ultimately no match for him and her forced her hand down. Miranda shook her hand out again and flexed her fingers.

“Shit,” she laughed. “Good game.”

“You put up a valiant effort,” Thor said, “and are a worthy opponent.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

“I told you she’d fit right in,” Clint said to the room at large. People talked over each other, some to say that they didn’t disagree but had wanted to make their own decision, others to agree wholeheartedly.

Miranda took it all in. It was strange, to be on the outside looking in at this family that had formed over the last year of combat. The sharp sting of loneliness cut through her moment of levity before the wound was smoothed over. Clint slung his arm over her shoulders and loudly announced:

“Welcome to the team, Douglas.”

*****

Tony’s workshop was cluttered with metal scattered all over the workbenches. A few tools peeked out from under the scaps, though most seemed to be tucked away in toolboxes. When Miranda wandered in, Tony was in front of a set of holographic screens. From what she could tell, the image in front of him was a new design for a suit of armor.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” she said. Tony startled and turned around. “I was wondering if I could use your soldering iron for a moment.”

His brow furrowed. “I guess. If you tell me why.”

Miranda half-smiled. “Fair enough. I, uh, want to make sure that this doesn’t come off. Ever.” She held up her wrist to show him the bracelet.

Tony’s eyes widened like he had just noticed it for the first time. “That’s a weird request.”

“I’m a weird person. I only need it for a moment.”

“Yeah, but are you sure that’s a good idea? To permanently attach that to you.”

“I’m not the only one with a questionable permanent attachment,” Miranda said and pointed to the glowing arc reactor in his chest. “I know what I’m getting into.”

“Do you? Because if you want to keep that on you, it’s pretty obvious that it’s not just a regular bracelet.”

“Can I use your soldering iron or not?” Miranda asked. She was sure he wouldn’t understand if she told him the full truth.

He stared at her for a moment. “Sure, kid. It’s in the cabinet over there.” He pointed.

“Thanks,” Miranda said. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled it out. A few minutes later, will a few silvery dots of solder standing out against gold of her bracelet, she put the kit back where she found it. She felt Tony’s eyes on her as she left. As she rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight, she heard Tony say:

“Hey, J, did you get any readings from her bracelet?”

Miranda paused for a moment before she decided to let it lie. To say anything would only make her more suspicious. She continued on. After all, she had a larger request to ask of someone; one she feared would determine the fate of the universe.

She found Thor in the gym in the midst of a sparring match with Steve, who seemed to be able to hold his own. From the shadows, she watched them move. Her eyes darted back and forth to follow every movement. It had been a long time since she had witnessed a fight.

Steve was light on his feet, almost like a dancer, though not as graceful. Thor, on the other hand, seemed more focused on strength and force. He rarely dodged and pushed himself into Steve’s space more than once before Steve slipped out of range, his fists still up.

Sam came over and leaned against the wall next to Miranda. She didn’t take her eyes from the match. Several moments passed before Sam said anything.

“You know how to fight,” he said.

“What gives you that idea?”

“Lots of things. How you hold yourself, how you’re watching them. I’ve been around these guys long enough to know when someone is calculating how a fight’s gonna go.”

Miranda hummed noncommittally.

“Steve says you wanna help us hunt down Hydra.”

“I do,” Miranda said. She wondered what else Steve had mentioned.

“Dunno what you told him but he seemed open to the idea. I’m not questioning his judgement, I just —”

Miranda summoned a fireball in her hand. “Here’s my resume,” she said dryly. She closed her hand and smothered it. “You’re all lying to yourselves if you think magic won’t be helpful.” Miranda turned a sharp eye toward Sam. “When I come back, I’m going to make Hydra wish I was never born. I’d prefer to fight  _ with  _ you.”

Sam nodded as he crossed his arms. “That’s, that’s fair. But what do you mean, ‘come back?’”

“I have some questions. I think I know where I can get answers,” Miranda said with a sidelong glance toward Thor. “If nothing else, I don’t think Earth is the safest place to be.” She straightened her shirt.

“You might be right about that,” Sam said. “But you’re in the safest place while you’re here.”

Miranda nodded though she wasn’t convinced. She didn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D. and she didn’t like being so close to them. She couldn’t get a read on a whole organization like she could small groups.

Steve and Thor shook hands at the end of their match, both sweaty but untired. Miranda approached Thor with a fresh bottle of water.

“I had hoped that I could have a word with you,” she said as she handed it to him. “I have a small request.”

“Thank you,” Thor said as he took the bottle from her, “and I know somewhere we could speak without so many ears.” He lead her to an area that seemed unfinished but private enough.

Miranda sighed, ran her hand over the unfinished drywall. After a moment, she spoke. She told him that she would like to join him when he returned to Asgard. Miranda chewed on her tongue, then asked, “What do you know of a being called Thanos?”

Thor frowned and thought for a moment. “I do not know that name. But we can learn together,” he said as he set a hand on her shoulder. “Asgard is a crossroads. Hopefully we can find some answers.”

Miranda nodded. “I certainly hope so.”

When they left the next day, Miranda found some irony in it. This chapter of her life closed the same way it opened: with her about to embark on a journey to a land of Vikings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! I plan on continuing my rewrite to go through the rest of the series and I'd love to hear what you'd like to see more/less of, get added or make sure I keep. Thank you all for the comments and kudos :) they mean a lot to me!


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